


I'm Still Here

by CreativeTadpole



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Divergence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Medical Procedures (Canon Typical), Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeTadpole/pseuds/CreativeTadpole
Summary: One night changes the trajectory of Kerry's and Sandy's life. Together they are forced to navigate their new reality as they struggle to reclaim what they once had.Set early season 9.
Relationships: Sandy Lopez/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 62
Kudos: 24





	1. Falling, Fallen

Gloves. That is what Kerry was thinking about as she walked to the station. She should have brought gloves.

She tried to remember exactly why she didn’t think of gloves this morning as she left for work. Kerry had always found that she felt the cold more than others and wasn’t one to leave unprepared. Her current lack of appropriate out-wear likely had something to do with the fact that she had become slightly scatterbrained these past several weeks, something that Sandy enjoyed lightly teasing her about. Kerry was sure she was never going to live the flu shot incident down. At work or at home.

Even with the gloves, Kerry probably would have still found herself regretting her decision to not bring her car into work today. It was only a short walk from the hospital to the station and she didn’t mind catching the train this late. After all, as a doctor, she had probably witnessed just about all the kinds of characters that one could imagine frequenting the empty carriages at night. However, it was turning out to be a lot colder and wetter than she had expected. The cold air biting at any exposed skin and the dull ache in her hip made her keen to get home and into bed with Sandy.

It was one of those rare nights when she and Sandy were finishing work at not only a somewhat normal hour but also at the same time. Granted that there were no surprises at their respective workplaces, the two were looking forward to actually sleeping in their bed together and not alone, which may have been a touch of wishful thinking on their part knowing their workplaces. However, on Kerry’s end, she had done quite well when it came to escaping the ER in time and she hoped Sandy had had the same luck. The department had been, as usual, a mess for most of the day and if it wasn’t for the fact that she was returning home to her wife, Kerry would have likely stayed on. There had been a backlog of patients building up since the morning and Kerry had spent the last three hours of her shift trying to get a young woman, who had been on the receiving end of her partner's temper, some support. All the other departments had also been less than helpful when it came to moving patients along. As if touching the ER would spread the madness onto their own floors. Everyone who worked there knew how the ER was its own little microcosm, one step onto the ground floor, and you were thrown into a world of barely contained chaos. Considering how much their lives were going to, hopefully, change soon, Kerry and Sandy would have to get better at controlling their work-related chaos.

Thoughts of home and Sandy were interrupted when an uneven spot of pavement met her crutch. Saving herself from a fall, Kerry was ready to resume her journey when she heard a noise behind her. Her head turned quickly as she eagerly searched for the source of the sound. But it was too dark. She couldn’t make out a thing. Kerry shivered but this time it was not from the cold but rather the ominous feeling that surrounded her. A newfound urgency raced through her body to get onto the train and out of this street.

The next thing she knew was that she was face down on the ground. An unpleasant dirty rainwater taste in her mouth. Her world was patchy. None of her senses were cooperating as she tried to gauge what had just happened. She briefly considered that she had fallen. Her chest ached like she had been winded. She tried to lift herself off the ground but she found herself lacking the strength to even lift her head. It wasn’t until she felt a warm liquid running down the back of her neck that it registered that something had hit her.

Instinctively Kerry felt around for her crutch, her fingers reaching out desperately, trying to grasp onto the metal like it was a lifeguard. Maybe if she located it she would magically regain all strength and understand what the hell had just happened to her. It wasn't long before a boot slammed down onto her fingers, bones crunching against the concrete below. The shock of not only realizing that she had been attacked but that the perpetrator was still there was paralyzing. The events of the last few moments caught up with her. The footsteps behind her, the pain, and then the cold ground.

A sharp kick to her side turned her into her back. Or maybe it was two kicks, even three. It all began to blur together. Kick after kick. Every time she thought it was over, that it had finally stopped, there was a further assault on her unprotected body. Feeding off her terror, the individual continued. Kerry was no stranger to pain, she lived with it daily, but this was different. This pain wasn’t coming from within her, it wasn’t her hip, this pain was not something she had learned to survive with. The attack was so remorseless, it seemed it could only end one way and it terrified her. This couldn’t be it. Not now. Not when she had barely had a chance to live the life she wanted. With the last drops of adrenaline in her system, Kerry blindly struggled against the far stronger individual as much as she could. The slightest of movements on her part exhausted her within seconds but she was desperate. Clawing on to any life left she kept fighting a losing battle as long as it was physically possible.

A metallic taste built up in her mouth and throat as she struggled to breathe. She was on her back again. She looked up, hoping to be met with a clear midnight sky, something else she could focus on. Kerry was instead hit with heavy raindrops plummeting onto her face. So she closed her eyes as tight as she could and tried to withdraw into the warmth of her memories. Her life with Sandy. The pain of realizing that their future was no more was as almost as painful as the assault itself. She tightened her eyes shut even more as if that would allow her to shut off from this reality. But it was useless, the person was now on her and she found herself back and fully conscious in this nightmare. The pressure was suffocating as a knee jammed under her ribs and into her diaphragm, all she could think about was how she wanted them off her. The kicks had ceased but this was somehow worse, their breath against her face and she felt as if she was frozen to the concrete below her. They were yelling something but the ringing in her ears drowned out any words.

Then it stopped. The streets felt still once again. Lying on the wet ground, Kerry Weaver thought she would never see her wife again.

* * *

Carter looked at the clock as he placed down a bunch of charts with a sigh.12:46 am. His shift had technically ended around an hour earlier but somehow he found himself roped into covering the last few hours of Susan’s shift. Carter massaged the bridge of his nose as he studied the surprisingly clear board. It was that time of night where the bright hospital lights bouncing off the white walls and floor was beginning to be a little much. Though it wasn’t all bad news, his extra effort gave him a somewhat valid excuse to skip out on the lunch department meeting that was scheduled. He would happily trade 4 hours of sleep to get out of that bureaucracy filled pathological boredom. Plus, without Kerry herself here to scold them for not making good use of time, Carter was ready to enjoy the calm after the storm that had been the previous night. That was until he heard the familiar sound of a gurney being rolled into the ER followed by his name being called.

“Carter!”

He quickly grabbed a yellow gown and gloves from the nurses station before making his way towards the hospital entrance. Feeling somewhat tired of the walk-ins and minor injuries he had been dealing with for the last few hours, Carter perked up at the prospect of some real medicine and enquired eagerly about his next trauma.

“What have we got?”

“It’s Dr Weaver and it’s bad,” Doris said urgently, struggling with the gurney as they came in from the torrent outside.

Any excitement drained instantly from Carter’s body leaving a sick overwhelming feeling of dread. The words Dr Weaver and bad replayed in his mind over and over, not quite comprehending their meanings until he saw his lifeless colleague before him.

“What the hell happened?” Carter shouted as he met the paramedics and came to lean over the unconscious patient. Not waiting for any responses he immediately started his assessment. “Kerry can you hear me? Open your eyes?”

Kerry remained still and Carter shined a penlight in her eyes, noting the sluggish response to the stimuli and the icy feel of her skin below his gloves.

“A worker found her near the station, not sure how long she had been there,” Zadro caught his breath. “She has been attacked.”

“No kidding” Carter snarked as he fully took in what he could see of her injuries. Which wasn’t much, but more than enough to communicate the brutality of whatever had happened. Strapped to a spinal board she was covered in blankets up to her neck, concealing god knows what other injuries below. Her hair was wet and mattered in a bloody mess that spilled onto her face, partially masking the angry dark bruises that had formed on the right side.

“Blunt force trauma to the head.” Doris relayed the most obvious and concerning injury. “GCS was 7 at the scene but dropped to 4 on route.”

“They found a brick nearby.”

“A brick?” Carter paused, shocked by the statement and its indication of violence. A rope tightened around his chest as he remembered his own attack, the unimaginable pain, and panic, he wondered if that was what Kerry had felt as well as she lay alone in the dark. The fear that no one would find them. He could hear his name being called around him, but everything felt far away and he couldn’t rid himself of the image of someone hitting Kerry with a brick. He shook his head and re-directed his focus on the words now practically being screamed at him from across the gurney he was holding onto.

“Dr Carter! Where do you want us?”

With that, Carter was back on autopilot. “Trauma 2” He directed them, remembering that Haleh and the others had been preparing for a trauma earlier in there. Though no amount of preparation was going to be enough for this.

The paramedics continued the bullet as they started to move again. “She is hypothermic, temp 90.3. Pulse is weak at 118, resps 22, and shallow. BP is 120/90. We didn't have time to do a full survey, we needed to get her out of the rain.”

Carter nodded in acknowledgment as he simultaneously took in the medical information and detailed a plan of action in his head. He suddenly found himself feeling less like an attending and more like an intern about to run their first trauma. He needed to get it together, he reminded himself that he had done this before, images of a certain benzene spill coming to mind. But this was different, he didn’t have that same youthful optimism that he could fix everything. Not since Lucy.

Carter was the most senior member of staff on at the moment, but he vaguely remembered seeing Luka before and hoped he was still around. Then he wouldn’t have to do this alone. He stopped by the nurse's station again on the way to trauma 2 and spotted a disgruntled looking Frank who must have noticed the commotion and wasn’t pleased with the idea of more work at this time of the morning.

"Not another one, I have barely -" Frank began his rant but was cut off abruptly by a grave sounding Carter.

“Frank, get me Luka now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> evil noises*
> 
> hello! thank you for reading this far and putting up with this. 
> 
> with all the amazing ER fanfic appearing lately (special mentions to bwayfan25, pga, simplywoven, thebiwife, wonderofasunrise) my angst filled brain couldn't stop itself from wanting to have a go as well (despite the fact I lack the talent side of things). 
> 
> anyways, feel free to leave your thoughts below, i would really like that and hopefully i can get the next chapter out soon.


	2. Dreams of a Stuffed Toy Elephant

The wind taunted Sandy with a threatening whistle as she made a final dash from the street and into her apartment building foyer. Exhausted and somewhat drenched, she silently cursed under her breath as she removed her jacket. It was typical, she thought, that the weather would take such an awful turn just as she decided to leave work. Taking a moment of respite, she quickly checked her cell for any messages from Kerry that may have appeared in the short time since she had last looked. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but she currently had a strong urgency to at least hear from her wife. Perhaps it was the cumulative effects of what had been an emotional week for them both or the stormy weather placing a veil of gloom over the night, but either way she wanted to be close. They’d always text each other when either arrived home. It had started as something more for Kerry than Sandy, who had the tendency to worry and liked to know that Sandy had returned home in one piece from her place of work. At first, Sandy didn’t quite understand the need but couldn’t deny that she found it quite endearing and it soon became just one of those things the two always did. 

As she thought, there were no messages and she took the elevator up to her floor. While she expected Kerry home tonight, she didn’t think it was likely that she would have already made her way home. At their apartment door, Sandy dropped her bag to the floor outside and foraged it for her keys. She wasn’t as organized as Kerry, or as she liked to put it, not as anal-retentive as her wife. Whereas Kerry preferred a sensible leather backpack, with separate compartments for practicality, Sandy was perfectly happy with her large over the shoulder bag. She always thought and found it mildly amusing that Kerry looked more like a child going off to school rather than a doctor with her backpack in the mornings. Finally locating the keys hiding in one of her spare trainers, she opened the door and entered the dark apartment. Pushing her bag to the side against the wall with her feet, Sandy promptly turned the lights on and caught sight of Kerry’s gloves sitting on the table, smiling at the garments that had clearly been forgotten by their owner. 

Moving into the bedroom, Sandy sat on the edge of the bed and removed her shoes before laying back. Stretching her arms above her head she waited for the satisfying pop sounds as she let the busy day wash over her. Turning her head to the side, Sandy looked at the plush elephant that was sitting on the dresser opposite the bed. A nervous smile falling upon her lips. She had purchased the toy elephant a few days earlier. After the retrieval procedure, she had stopped briefly at the supermarket to collect something for dinner, leaving a napping Kerry in the car. The doctor bemused when she awoke to a fluffy grey elephant sitting in her lap as Sandy pulled into their street. 

Kerry had protested the extra item that had arrived home with them, reminding her wife that they weren’t even pregnant yet. Or that they may never be. Sandy, however, wasn’t able to help herself once she had set eyes on it in the store. Something had shifted within her that day. While she had not wanted to carry the child herself, Sandy had been concerned that she would feel disconnected from it all. Scared that the baby would arrive and she would feel as if they weren’t hers no matter how much she tried to love them. Almost feeling ashamed for having these thoughts, Sandy had never confided in Kerry about her worries. However, as they navigated their way through the IVF process together, she very quickly found herself being committed to the idea of a baby far stronger than she ever thought possible. And while she knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, especially with Kerry being so good at reminding her about the various statistics, she couldn’t wait until they were a family of three. For now, though, Mr. Elephant would stay up on the dresser looking over the couple as he waited patiently for a new playmate. 

Pulling out the cell from her pocket Sandy went about leaving a message for Kerry after the dial tone ran through. 

“Hey, it’s me, just letting you know that I survived another day on the job.” She teased, knowing well that Kerry wouldn’t appreciate the joke. “Don’t be working yourself too hard, call me when you're finished and I can come pick you up. You forgot your gloves and I don’t want you being all cold.” She paused before ending the message, feeling compelled to finish with a final note. “Love you.”

When the phone would ring later, Sandy wouldn’t take notice of the number that was not her wife’s. Maybe if she had, she may have been more prepared to hear what was going to be said to her. Then, again, maybe it was simply not possible to be prepared. 

  
  


Abby had to stop herself from releasing an audible gasp as she entered the room. By now it had spread around the department that their chief of emergency was lying bruised and battered in trauma two, but any specific details were hazy. Biting down on her bottom lip, Abby fiddled with her gown behind her back before clicking into nurse mode. Her eyes darted around the bed at all the individuals in the room, noting what they were currently doing as she evaluated where she would be needed. The trauma team was well-rehearsed, all-knowing their individual roles and responsibilities, and this was no different. 

“Has she said what happened?” 

Luka was the only one who acknowledged her question and shook his head. His eyes remained fixed below him as he stood at the head of the bed and continued his examination of Kerry’s neck. Finishing, he gently strapped the collar back on and spoke. 

“She was barely conscious. Haleh, I need that second line.” 

“I’ll do it.” Abby looked over at her fellow nurse who was preoccupied with swapping over a bag of saline. She leaned down over Kerry’s right arm and was met with a swollen hand that had taken on a purple shade with raw grazes. 

“Her hand is badly bruised,” Abby said, gently palpating the bones as she let her mind speculate on the mechanism of injury, “feels like multiple fractures.” 

Carter joined Abby by her side and grimaced as he lifted the hand up slightly, turning it over to see pieces of gravel embed deep into the pink flesh. “Looks like it was crushed or something.”

“I think that’s the least of her worries,” Luka’s voice was dismissive, concerned that they were getting too caught up in details. That it would draw their focus away. Their job was already hard enough without thinking about what she had experienced whenever a new injury was uncovered. Luka couldn’t work like that. 

“Someone chase up the portable x-ray,” He instructed, keen to clear her neck, chest, and pelvis along with her left leg that was awkwardly turned inwards, “and call radiology, she is going to need an urgent head CT.”

Abby made her way to the phone while Carter began to cut away at Kerry’s wet ribbed sweater, revealing a colorful assortment of bruises already marring her once pale skin. 

“Extensive bruising to the abdomen,” He relayed his findings to the group, “and chest. Looks like she has been kicked. I feel multiple rib fractures.”

“We need to roll her,” 

The team set into place for their well-choreographed routine. Luka supported her head and neck, Abby joined Carter in supporting her middle and Haleh at her legs. 

“Kerry, we are going to roll you now,” Luka explained gently to her, despite the fact that their patient had yet to open her eyes since arriving. 

With the direction of Luka, the team repositioned Kerry onto her right side. The movement elicited a faint but nonetheless pained cry. He pulled away at the dressing that was covering the back of her to reveal a large laceration on her scalp. The wound was deep, the combination of sticky coagulated blood and hair making it hard to assess if there was any underlying fracture. Fresh blood started to ooze out as the area was disturbed and Luka quickly applied pressure with a new dressing. 

“Kerry, tell me if you have any pain,” Carter pressed down her back at each vertebra. There was a familiar scattering of bruises on her back like her stomach. There wasn’t much response from Kerry that aided Carter’s assessment. Only a few nonspecific muffled groans. However, it was clear that their patient was becoming more alert. And agitated. 

“Okay, let’s roll her back.” Luka had noticed the change in her demeanor. 

As Kerry was gently rolled back into a supine position, Elizabeth breathlessly entered the room for what was going to be the 7th trauma-related surgical consult of her shift. 

“You paged me- ” The combination of exhaustion and shock rendered her unable to complete her sentence. 

As Elizabeth was filled in on the current situation, Kerry was attempting the simple task of opening her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she had been trying, in fact, she wasn’t exactly sure of anything at all but she found herself desperately trying to lift the weights that were her eyelids. Kerry felt as if she was stuck in some repeating cycle and it was starting to unsettle her. She would open her eyes, fail to see much apart from the dark patches that clouded any vision, and then suddenly find herself trying to open them again without ever remembering closing them originally. Her senses and thoughts were separated by what felt like days, nothing around her was recognizable no matter how long she managed to keep her eyes open. Deciding that the prospect of trying to work out her current situation was too exhausting she succumbed to the same darkness that she had been visiting for the last few hours. 

Though her slumber was interrupted by what felt like every single nociceptor in her body firing. The pain was familiar. Unrelenting both in its intensity but also the terror it brought. She was scared and she didn’t know why she was. And without knowing why, Kerry wasn't able to do anything practical about it. The pain fuelled the panic and the panic fuelled the pain. Though black edges still surrounded her vision, Kerry finally managed to make out what resembled a tile on the wall. Lime green. Her favorite color, she thought. She was somewhat enthralled by tiles as if they held greater significance than simply the fact that she liked the color. She was at work. This realization brought a welcome sense of relief and comfort to Kerry, who was glad she was now in an environment she knew. Though the relief was temporary as she gained a sense of proprioception that told her that the current angle from which she was viewing the room was not quite right. She was at work, but something was very wrong. 

Memories of being thrown around on the wet pavement forced themself into her mind in abrupt flashes. She began to gasp for air, like she had done in the street, feeling as if no oxygen was entering her lungs. Horrified, Kerry began to wonder if she was still there. She could feel she was lying on something hard, it was cold like the concrete. Her vision blurred even more and all she could make out were vague tall shadows moving around her and she tensed in anticipation of further assault. There was noise, voices even, but it was too hard to focus. Her confusion was building along with an agonizing pressure in her head. She tried to move her body, get away from whatever was around her, but her limbs would not cooperate. Someone was choking her, she could feel them around her neck, restricting any air she was managing to breathe in. Her chest felt impossibly tight. They were on her again and this time they were going to finish the job off. 

“Kerry, it’s ok. It's Luka. You are at County. Do you understand?”

Any comprehension that Kerry had gained in the last few minutes was quickly leaving and being replaced with disorientation. The scattered memories of her attack left as abruptly as they came. Eventually, she found herself back where she had begun. Desperately trying to keep her eyes open. 

“Sats are dropping,” Abby stressed. Tension filled the room as a deluge of alarms alter them to an emergent situation. Luka continued to try and calm an increasingly distressed Kerry. 

“Decreased breath sounds on the right side.” Elizabeth pulled the earpieces out and hung the stethoscope around her neck “She needs a chest tube.” 

Swiftly, Luka and Carter set out to drape their patient and Haleh passed the chest tube tray over. Luka continued to talk to Kerry, explaining what they were doing and keeping a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“Scalpel,” 

The surgeon steadied her hand as she made the short incision over the rib-surface and dissected with the clamp through the subcutaneous tissue and intercostal muscles. Carter looked closely on, following Elizabeth's every move and mentally taking himself through each step of the procedure in an attempt to remain collected. 

“Be careful, there could be bone fragments.”

“I know Carter!” Elizabeth snapped, not appreciating the extra commentary on her performance. 

Despite having done the procedure hundreds of times before the feeling of being inside her colleague's chest unnerved her. Taking a breath she pushed forward with the clamp, puncturing the pleura and gaining access into the chest cavity. Quickly, she inserted her index finger and felt around for any adhesions. Satisfied that she was in the correct area, Elizabeth promptly inserted the chest tube with the clamp, using her finger as a guide. 

“There it’s in.”

Elizabeth removed the clamp and finger, while Haleh removed the clamp at the other end of the tube that was connected to the drainage device allowing the lung to inflate. 

“Sats are improving,” Carter noted, expecting to see a similar picture of relief as he looked around the room. But Elizabeth’s face remained grave as she started to suture the tube in place, feeling that this was going to be only one of many hurdles. 

  
  


“CT is ready for us” Abby hung the phone back up on the wall. 

“Elizabeth?” Luka looked up at Elizabeth who was studying the screen as she finished off the scan she was performing. 

The surgeon turned her head to the side slightly, pausing over the right kidney, and narrowing her eyes. She carefully formulated her opinion before speaking. “There is a lot of bruising. But her belly feels soft and there is nothing of immediate concern on the scan.”

“BP is holding.” 

Luka nodded, pleased to see Haleh returning with X-rays. She handed them over to Carter who quickly pulled out the chest film and held it up to the light. 

“Tube placement looks good.”

“Okay let's go.” Luka decided, eager to move fast. Not trusting his patient to remain in the relatively stable condition she was currently in. Following her prolonged period of unconsciousness and observing her altered state in the short time she had been awake, he was sure something was going on but without the scan he was blind. 

“Do you want to incubate?” Elizabeth asked.

Luka weighed up his options, knowing that if she was to awaken again, as agitated as she had been, it would make the scan difficult. But the idea of unnecessarily subjecting her to an invasive procedure with its own risks also wasn't desirable. “She is maintaining her own airway at the moment. Let's hold off on that”

“I’ll go up with her then,” Carter said, passing over the rest of the films to Luka to examine while they were gone. 

Elizabeth joined them in the hospital elevator, apologizing that she was needed in the surgical ICU but ordering them to call her down the moment she was needed. Luka noted her words. _When_ she was needed not _if_. He tried to remember if that was what she always said or if this was a sign she was expecting that her expertise would be needed. That something might change. Luka had already been here one too many times already. Standing in the corridor, wondering if they had caught it in time. He was drawn out of his introspection when an apprehensive Lily approached him and Abby. 

“The cops are here, they want to talk to Dr. Weaver?” Lily looked into the trauma room to see if she was still there. 

There was a long pause and Abby wondered if she was going to have to speak up in place of Luka who appeared unwilling to deal with this right now. 

“That’s not going to be possible. She just went up to CT and she is not conscious.”

Lily sensed Luka’s fractious mood and cautiously continued. “They would also like to know how serious her injuries are.”

Luka curtly turned away from them, ripping his gown off and throwing it into a nearby waste bin. Not offering a response until he was almost out of the hospital and standing in the ambulance bay. 

“Serious.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life got a little in the way. I should be able to update more regularly in near further (though the next chapter may be a bit late as well- sorry!).
> 
> You know when a chapter decides to start taking a completely different route than what you wanted to do. This is that chapter. I was like 'lets not do medical stuff cause I am not a doctor' and then I wrote this. And the I didn't like it. (Also me and my 2 classes of college human physiology apologize to any medical people out there). So that was also partly why it took me a while. 
> 
> Anyway, now this is all out of the way we can head into the nice angsty emotional stuff :) Thanks for reading!


	3. Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

_ “What the hell happened?!” _

_ “She crashed in the scanner,” _

_ “Pulse OX down to 82,”  _

_ “Left pupil is blown,” _

_ “Did they get the scans?” _

_ “We need to intubate,” _

_ “She wasn’t stable enough, we should have done this before!” _

_ “She was maintaining her airway, Luka.” _

_ “Etomidate-“ _

_ “Someone get neuro down here now!” _

“Carter, you okay?”

The voice pulled him back into the present. His eyes re-focusing on the scans in front of him as he stood up straight from his leaning position against the counter. 

“Is that?” The voice prompted again and Carter turned to meet Abby’s eye. She had heard about the difficulties they had faced upstairs, having been herself called to another patient. How Kerry’s condition had deteriorated, leaving Carter and Haleh scrambling to keep her stable enough until they could get back down to the ER. 

Carter nodded and pointed towards an ominous-looking white spot on the scan, tracing its outline with his finger. 

“Subdural Hematoma. I can’t see any shift or herniation though.”

“There’s also skull fracture,” He added, moving his finger to an area further down on the scan, “but there doesn’t appear to be any significant bleeding associated.”

Abby stepped closer, eyes narrowed as she studied the images before her. Trying to gauge seriousness. The way the collection of blood pushed into the nearby darker tissue on the image, providing a partial answer to her query. 

In a way, she felt strangely guilty as she looked at the scans, not sure if it was her place to attempt to assemble the full picture. Decode what those images could mean. How they could likely be sentencing the doctor to a very different life from this moment on. 

Abby and Kerry shared a similar I’m fine mantra. And currently, there was a poster on the wall of the department, screaming that Kerry was indeed not fine at all. 

“What did surgery say?” She asked. 

Carter scoffed at the question, the exasperation and emotional toll of the last few hours still travelling through his body. “Well, they finally sent someone from neuro after about five separate calls.” 

“I guess Weaver is the one who usually chases them down.” Abby awkwardly reminisced and Carter was unsure if she was trying to lighten the situation or was offering an explanation of sorts. Either way, it fell flat and he chose to ignore the statement. 

“They took her straight to surgery for an evacuation.”

“Prognosis?” 

She knew Kerry was a private person, that she would hate something so personal being privy to her staff and colleagues. In many ways, Abby was the same. Both women seemed to feel as if they must keep a part of their lives away from this place. 

For Abby, it had been largely her mother, a long and painful history she wanted to forget. And for Kerry, well, it seemed to most that she kept everything hidden. Some saw it as a sign that Kerry didn’t care enough about them to share her life, but Abby saw something else. She recognised her own fear in the older woman. A fear that only grew from trauma. 

So even though she had been on the treating medical team, she worried she was intruding when she asked. There was a certain intimacy involved when dealing with life and death and Abby wasn’t so sure Kerry would appreciate her being there. 

“They are confident that she will make it through the surgery,” Carter replied, “what she is like when she wakes up though is another story.”

“We’ve seen worse than this in the ER before, she will be fine,” Abby said, more as a statement to convince herself rather than anything else. Her statement was not false. When you work in the ER for long enough, you learn that things are no longer black and white. How one can survive a gunshot wound to the head and another with a broken leg leave in a casket. 

She waited a moment for reassurance from Carter, but when that did not come she decided to bite the bullet. 

“Do they...suspect permanent damage?”

“Abby, some guy decided to throw a brick at her head after her shift. Believe me. There will be long lasting effects regardless if she has to learn to talk again or not!”

“I didn’t mean-” The critical tone of his voice had surprised her, and Abby realised that Carter may not be dealing with events as well as she was. She kicked herself for not thinking about how the situation may be bringing back certain memories. 

“I’m sorry, this is, it is just a lot,” He stressed, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s ok,” Abby said, noticing the dark circles hanging from his eyes. “Do you want to go and get a coffee or something?”

“I Can’t.” Carter shook his head, pulling the scans down and sliding them into the brown folder, “I just got off the phone to Sandy, she should be here soon.”

“God, I can’t even begin to imagine what she must be feeling.” Abby said through a sigh, “But I am sure Luka can talk to her. No offence, but you look like hell. Let’s take a break from this place. You’ve done enough.”

Sick. 

That’s how Sandy felt. 

She was used to adrenaline. It exhilarated her. It was in her nature to seek it out, ever since she was a child much to her mother's anxiety. There was always a taller tree to be climbed. A steeper hill to ride your bike down. Though this shot had not made her feel like it did as she saved people from burning buildings. 

No, this made her feel sick. 

_ “Sandy, you need to come to the hospital. It’s Kerry, something has happened.” _

_ Something. What the hell was something?  _

_ Who says something? Something could be anything.  _

_ Is that what they teach you to say in med school, Carter?  _

_ “Someone has assaulted her. We don’t know the details but her injuries...they are quite serious…” _

She stood unmoving in the dimly lit kitchen as she relived the conversation she had just hung up from. The buzzing of the refrigerator was the only noise, keeping Sandy company with her thoughts.

She leant heavily onto the counter, seriously doubting her ability to stay upright as she tried to take deep breaths. She knew she should be in the car. Speeding her way to the hospital. To go and be with Kerry. But she was frozen.

How could have this happened?

This question was the only thing she could focus on. 

Auto-pilot must have switched on at some point because she was soon snatching her keys off from the table and out the apartment door. 

The streets were quiet at this time of the morning, a good thing considering that Sandy barely registered the fact that she was driving. They’d driven this route many times before, she didn’t need to think about it even if she could. 

It was still very early by the time she arrived at the hospital, the winter mornings dark and uninviting to those that had awakened. She parked in an adjacent street and sprinted to the hospital. She had no jacket on, but she didn’t care. She couldn't feel the cold. Only dread. 

She knew her way around the ER well. Mental maps were a strength of hers. She could look at the floorplan of a building for a few seconds and then be able to use it to navigate blindly through smoke-filled corridors. Kerry was always envious of her seemingly photographic memory. 

She made her way to the trauma rooms first, expecting to find her there. But they were empty. She looked around the corridor for a familiar face to no avail. She wasn’t on a first-name basis with the entirety of the ER staff but between her job and Kerry, she had gotten to know several of them. 

Where was everyone? One of their own was injured and yet everything seemed so normal. There was no urgency. No chaos. It just felt like an ordinary day. 

Sandy was confused, but a light relief washed over here. Maybe she had misunderstood. She could barely remember what Carter had told her over the phone. She was exhausted, having worked a long shift, it was possible she got the wrong idea and had panicked. Maybe Kerry was fine. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. It was Susan. 

“Sandy-”

“Where is she?” She interjected quickly, she had no time for pleasantries. 

“I just got here, let me go and find Luka. He was treating her.” Susan spoke, her voice was gentle but firm. The kind of voice you wanted to hear in a crisis. But Sandy tried to see beyond it. And then she saw it. The pity. 

Kerry wasn’t fine. 

“Is she okay?”

Susan offered a reassuring smile, while tactfully avoiding the question. She led Sandy away from the trauma rooms and towards Luka who she had just spotted returning from the ambulance bay. 

“This is Sandy Lopez,” Susan introduced, unsure if the two had met before. 

Luka looked around, barely acknowledging Sandy. “Is Carter here?”

As awful as it sounded, he was drained and the prospect of having to explain what had happened to Kerry’s partner was not something he wished to do. 

Susan shook her head and shot a pointed look at the male doctor, displeased with his apparent lack of sensitivity. Luka was about to apologize when Sandy herself spoke up, frustrated and pleading for any sort of information. 

“Can someone just tell me what’s going on?”

Luka nodded. “Of course, let’s get out of here.”

The Doctors lounge was fortunately empty. Susan and Sandy took a seat on the couch against the wall while Luka pulled over a chair and sat opposite from them. Luka began to speak, getting to the point straight away. Something Sandy was thankful for. 

“Kerry suffered a serious head injury. She just went into surgery, they will perform a craniotomy to alleviate the pressure on her brain.” 

“Oh god”

Sandy closed her eyes, burying her head in her hands, as Luka continued to recite the list of injuries that felt like it would never end. Bruises, fractures, chest drain, something about her hand and her hip. She wanted to know all the details. They were important. If this was her, Kerry would be questioning everything and making sure it was all being done right. She needed to know. So she could do the same for her. But her brain couldn’t keep up and the words lost all their meaning. 

“I know it’s a lot.” Susan comforted, placing a hand on Sandy’s arm before continuing, “Do you have her POA?”

Sandy stilled. If the words brain surgery weren’t enough to tell her this was serious. Asking about Kerry’s POA was. 

“Yes, Kerry made us sort that all out before we started trying.”

“IVF?” Susan replied, remembering the needle incident in the bathroom and Kerry’s admission. Her heart suddenly sank as the realisation entered her mind. Had she been pregnant? Though that thought was fortunately quickly shot down by Sandy's next words. 

“I knew she shouldn’t have gone to work today. She should have taken another day off after the retrieval. But you know how she is...” 

“I should have made her stay home, then this wouldn't have happened!”

“You can’t think like that Sandy, you will drive yourself mad,” Luka spoke, his pager unceremoniously interrupting the moment. He apologetically excused himself before rushing off. 

“I’ll take you up to the surgical waiting room. We should be able to get some more information about what is going on.” Susan said. 

The pair left the lounge together, Romano curtly cutting past them as they reached the corridor. Like Susan, he had gotten a call early in the morning explaining vaguely that there had been some sort of incident with Kerry and that he was now needed in the ER. He hadn’t bothered to find out any further detail, too infuriated by the fact that yet again the incompetence of the department meant that he was here at some ungodly hour. 

“Do I need to remind you that we have enough people coming in and out of here, you don’t need to go make yourselves patients!” Romano announced as he approached the admit desk where a few of the nurses had gathered, preparing for the morning shift change. 

Displeased that his statement hadn’t elicited the reaction he sought after, Romano continued. “Which was it then? Disgruntled patient or was it one of you lot?”

At that, a bunch of eyes shot up at him with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. 

“What? I am sure we have all wanted to do it.”

There was a shuffling noise behind him and suddenly there was a splitting pain shooting up his arm. 

“You shut the hell up about my wife!” Sandy launched herself at the surgeon, having heard the conversation from the corridor. “You bastard!” 

“Sandy!”

Susan quickly ran towards the woman to pull her off the surgeon before she did something she may regret later. Though part of her was happy to let Sandy continue and teach him a lesson. It wasn’t as if he was not deserving of her anger. However, the last thing Sandy needed right now was to be dragged away screaming by security. 

Fueled by rage at Romano’s words, Sandy was hard to control but finally, she withdrew, hands up and stepped backwards into Susan's arms. Her body collapsing into a series of barely controlled sobs. 

“She might die and you’re making jokes! My wife might die!” The realization fully hit her. “She is in surgery and she might die!”

Susan ushered Sandy away to somewhere more private, wanting to protect her from the sizable group of people who had formed after noticing the commotion. 

“I didn’t know- my stupid assistant didn’t mention anything about a god damn surgery. How was I supposed to know!” He defended, but no one cared to listen. They’d heard enough. 

_ “I hope that you end up with a possibly fatal illness one day Kerry, so I can do absolutely nothing to help you.” _

Elizabeth cupped her hand under the cold stream of water, letting it fill before splashing it onto her face. The icy liquid was a shock but a welcome distraction from her thoughts. In the mirror she watched as the water rolled down off her face, disappearing into the basin below, wishing the uneasiness in her body would follow. 

Those words had been following her around for the last few hours. Lingering around the hospital corridors everywhere she walked, trying to subject her to her guilt. And she wished they would leave her alone. 

Those words hadn’t come out unprovoked. No, she was anxious and emotional. She was angry with the situation. Kerry had understood. It was water under the bridge. So much had happened since that moment. 

Then why did she feel so damn awful? 

Elizabeth couldn’t deny the tension between herself and Kerry recently. She had practically made the women cry a few weeks back. And now she had just seen that same woman's brain exposed in theatre. It was only now that she was wondering why Kerry had been so uncharacteristically emotional that afternoon, understandably her grief had left her distracted in past weeks. Not that it even mattered now. 

Elizabeth left the bathroom and was ready to collect a pile of paperwork from the surgery desk when something caught her eye. The floor was quiet, the lights dim, but she could make out Sandy Lopez sitting in the waiting room alone. 

The parallels were confronting. Stricken wives waiting for a miracle. It was all so familiar. So recent. 

Perhaps driven by feelings of guilt or the fact she knew what it was like to be on the other side, Elizabeth cautiously approached Sandy, unsure if the woman would want the company. 

“How long have you been waiting here alone?”

Sandy sat up straight, not having noticed the surgeon join her. “Not long. Susan was with me for a while. But she had to go.” She replied, unemotive. 

She didn't make eye contact with Elizabeth. She was too tired. Any energy she had, depleted after her incident with Romano. She couldn’t feed into it anymore. So unless it was Kerry herself talking or someone willing to take her to Kerry, she didn’t want to know. 

Elizabeth nodded, not quite sure what to say or do. She stood awkwardly in front of Sandy for what felt like minutes. 

“I just checked in on the surgery. She is holding on.”

“Holding on,” Sandy repeated quietly, eyes focused on the floor. “Do all of you insist on speaking in riddles around here or something?”

Elizabeth debated her response, realizing that the women had probably been hearing variations of ‘I’m sorry’ all morning. Instead, she sat down beside the brunette on the other end of the couch, giving Sandy some space. 

“There were some complications, they didn’t go into any details but they were confident they would be finished soon.”

Sandy nodded, pressing her lips together hard, desperately trying to maintain a facade of strength. When she was convinced she could speak without her voice wavering, she asked the question she felt she’d been repeating ever since she had arrived. But she couldn’t stop no matter how many times she got the same answer. 

“When can I see her?”

“They are getting an orthopaedist to reduce her hip in theatre as well. It probably will be a while until you can see her in recovery”

She knew Elizabeth couldn’t offer anything more, but she was growing tired of the vagueness. The lack of answers. No one seemed able to help her. 

There was another period of prolonged silence between the women. Sandy slowly unravelling inside, the threads becoming loose one by one. And Sandy remembered why she had been quite content sitting here alone after Susan had departed. Because when you talked, it became real again. She didn’t want it to be real. 

“And then, that’s it, right? No more surgery, she’ll be okay.” Her words came out as more of a plea than she wanted them too, but she was desperately clinging onto any hope like a child. She knew the answer, but she asked anyway. Her brain still refused to accept that things were very much not okay. She couldn’t think clearly. 

“Sandy, you know how it is, there are no guarantees. With her injuries, it’s likely to be a long recovery.”

She might not have had the same degree of medical knowledge but she knew. She had seen it enough on her job. Seen colleagues injured, some entering the hospital and never leaving. And those who did survive, sometimes leaving never the same again. 

Was that now Kerry’s fate?

Elizabeth watched as Sandy squeezed her car keys tight, the woman’s knuckles pale as she tried to fight against the tears that threatened to escape. Elizabeth was about to leave, sensing that Sandy wanted to be alone when she noticed that Sandy appeared to have not come with anything apart from her keys. She checked the clock on the wall and noted that she had some time to spare before she had to relieve the nanny at home. 

“Why don’t we head back to your apartment to collect some things. You aren’t going to want to leave her once she is out of surgery and it doesn’t look like you came with much.” Elizabeth offered with a concerned frown. 

Sandy shook her head, wiping her tears defiantly. “I’m not going anywhere. Not while she is still in surgery.”

“Okay then, I am sure we can find someone to collect some of your things if you wish.”

“I don’t want my things” Sandy snapped, placing emphasis on the last word and for the first time looking Elizabeth in the eye. “I just want my wife.” Her voice was steady but the pain behind it was evident. 

It was clear that Sandy did not want to be consoled. The women barely knew each other. She turned her body away even more and Elizabeth watched as her shoulders bounced up and down with every wobbly sharp intake of air. Elizabeth offered the only thing she could think of in response. 

“I know.”

She truly did know. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me :)  
> Hopefully I will get back into to the swing of things now that I have less work related distractions.


	4. Just Another Day

The surgery floor grew more alive with every passing hour around Sandy. It was the only thing that indicated to her that time was indeed still moving. An understanding of time wasn’t something that was with her anymore. As far as she was concerned, she was stuck in an unmoving nightmare. 

She had been sitting alone for an hour or two after Elizabeth had left for home. The day was finally beginning to creep into what was left of the early morning. The corridors were now bustling with activity, doctors and nurses arriving on their shifts, wearied eyed and coffees in hand. Those on the graveyard shift were set free to go home and the faces that Sandy had seen over the past few hours started to be replaced with new ones. The phones began to ring more frequently, the elevator doors opening every fifteen minutes rather than every hour. Colleagues conjugated in small groups, sharing the occasional laugh as they prepared for the day ahead. The world was waking up to another day. 

She envied them. Envied their casual conversations, their ability to drink coffee without feeling ill, their normal non-life altering phone calls. 

To Sandy, it sure as hell didn’t feel like _ another day. _

No one else had come to speak to her after Elizabeth. Part of her was relieved but another was desperately seeking out the comfort of another human being. But there was no one here that could offer that comfort. She couldn’t help but feel like a stranger here, her only connection lying unconscious in an operating room. This wasn’t her place, it was Kerry’s and without her, she felt lost. 

It was just past six in the morning when Sandy realized that there was a clock on the wall within sight. It had been obnoxiously ticking the entire time she had sat in the waiting room, but she hadn’t cared to locate the source of the sound. It had been a good decision, as now she couldn’t stop focusing on it. She followed every tick of the arm, wondering what was happening at that exact second. 

Who was with Kerry? What were they doing? What were they thinking?

_ Was she even still alive? _

At twelve minutes and thirty-four seconds past six am, Sandy’s name was called. This was it. Despite spending the best part of the last few hours in a mild denial, not wanting to accept what had happened, Sandy found herself quickly preparing for the worst as two male doctors approached her. 

She stood up to meet them, even as they gestured their hands to indicate that she could remain seated. She watched as their mouths moved, but her hearing was fuzzy, listening out for only one sentence. Then it came. 

“Dr Weaver is in recovery now. We will be moving her to the ICU shortly, but you can come and see her now if you would like.” 

“Yes.” She nodded, taking in the information, not entirely sure that she wasn't just hearing what she wanted. But when she was confident that it had been reality she repeated herself, voice eager. “Yes, please.”

“Come this way.”

She hadn’t caught the doctors' names when they first introduced themselves, her mind had been racing through catastrophic scenario after scenario. She looked on their scrubs for any indication of identity, not wanting to have to ask, but came up with nothing. She hoped they would return in their coats soon, this was something she probably should know. 

She made sure to be listening as they began to explain the surgery and Kerry’s condition. The bleeding in her brain had been controlled and the pressure relieved. They explained that she had come out of surgery ‘well’ but would remain sedated. Sandy wondered just what ‘well’ meant.

She could tell the information had been somewhat dumbed down to a more accessible level. Almost taking offence, she wanted to tell them that she had some medical training. That she wasn’t like all the other anxious family members, they didn’t have to treat her the same. Scream at them that her wife was a doctor as if that would magically make her able to understand all the minute details. It wasn’t like she could even ask her wife to explain. 

The group stopped walking and Sandy found herself standing at the foot of Kerry’s hospital bed. At least that is who they told her was in the bed, but it took a moment for Sandy to find her wife. 

It didn’t look like Kerry. 

No, she looked far too small lying in the bed. Sandy didn’t like how the various pieces of hospital equipment  encroached her from every angle. Even if they were keeping her alive. 

She didn’t like any of it. 

Eventually, the need to be close overcame the shock and Sandy sat down on the stool that had been wheeled over for her. She went to hold Kerry’s right hand but found it obstructed by a cast. They’d told her it would need to be on for at least four weeks, maybe six and Sandy had been concerned at first about how she would be able to use her crutch. Then the realization hit her, that it probably would not be that much of an issue. At least not in the immediate future. 

She moved her hand past the cast, and gently held onto the crook of her elbow that was relatively free from any wires. She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling of being with her wife again. Focusing on the feel of her skin, she was relieved that it was warm. Kerry felt the cold more than others and she didn’t want her to be lying here freezing. Blocking out the environment around her, for that moment Sandy could pretend that they were at home. In bed and safe. 

Opening her eyes, Sandy followed a bunch of tubes and lines to Kerry’s chest. What she assumed was a central line, poked out from the top of her hospital gown and hung over it, pushing down the fabric slightly. She could see the top of an angry-looking bruise below, along with an assortment of abrasions that fell over her clavicle. 

There was movement behind her and she pulled her hand away from Kerry as she turned back. The surgeons excused themselves, saying something about how they would be back shortly and Sandy returned her attention to Kerry, frustrated that it had been diverted in the first place. Her fists clenched in her lap as she looked at her face. The wide bandage that ran around her head concealed the worst of her injuries from Sandy but the right side was bruised and swollen. Sandy desperately tried to stop herself from thinking about the cause of the damage. She couldn't go down that path right now. There was simply no mental energy left for that.

Taking a sharp breath, Sandy shook her head in an effort to collect herself. She placed her hand back onto her arm and focused on the rise and fall of her chest, doing her best to ignore the ET tube and the sound of the ventilator. 

_ She is still here. That’s all that matters.  _

“Hey-” Sandy leant forward closer, hesitating as she began to speak. She knew she was sedated but wanted to say something. However, nothing felt right or particularly useful. She wasn’t always good with words in moments like this, she was a person who preferred to express herself through her actions and currently there wasn’t any practical she could do to help Kerry. She thought about what she would want to hear and hoped her presence would be enough for now, “I am here Kerry. It’s going to be okay.”

A nurse walked over to her, stopping by the bed. At first, she thought he was here to kick her out. Say that she had to leave. And Sandy instinctively tightened her hold of Kerry’s arm. Preparing to object any such command. She’d been waiting so long and wasn't about to let anyone push her out now. 

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” The nurse asked. 

She tried to think if there would be anyone Kerry would want her to call. Her parents had passed and she had been an only child, so as far as any immediate family was concerned there wasn’t much to consider. Apart from a few old friends from college that would call at birthdays and Christmas, most of Kerry’s life also seemed to centre around the hospital. As much as she had resisted intertwining her work with her life, the hospital was the place Kerry had the most connections these days. Even if very few made it past the ‘acquaintance’ or ‘colleague’ status. 

Sandy debated if she should call her own parents, but decided to wait. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep this from them, she would likely need their help sometime in the future. But they wouldn’t be able to offer the comfort she needed right now, only questions she didn’t have the strength to answer. Questions she hadn’t even begun to try and understand. They’d have to wait. 

“No,” She replied, picking a small piece of lint off Kerry’s hospital gown, “It’s ok.” She turned her head to the side and conjured the most convincing smile she could. 

Though she wasn't fooling anyone. 

* * *

  
The day progressed in a similar manner to the night before for Sandy. Hazy and disconnected. Only this time it wasn’t quite as agonizing. Sandy no longer felt like she was drowning with no land in sight. She no longer felt quite as out of place. She was more grounded now as she was with her wife. That’s all she focused on. Her and Kerry. Blocking out the rest of the noise. 

Inevitably , a variety of faces pushed themselves into her world with Kerry. Some faces she recognized while others were strangers. Some of the faces would speak, others simply come and fiddle with a piece of equipment and leave again. But none of them told her to leave, in fact after they had moved her out of recovery everyone on the floor appeared to be trying to make Sandy (and Kerry) as comfortable as possible. 

They’d been given the last bed against the wall, conferring them a little more privacy and a pull-out chair had also been placed nearby. Sandy had looked around at the other patients, noticing that there were few visitors with them (nor any items of comfy furniture) and assumed someone had wrangled her a permit to stay. Or that perhaps the medical staff were wary about upsetting Dr Weaver’s wife, not wanting to have it reported back to her. Either way, Sandy was grateful for the little stability she had right now.

While Kerry’s infamous reputation did spread upstairs and throughout the hospital, all of this had been at the direction of Romano. Not that he would ever admit to it, he was nursing a guilty conscience. Kerry had also been the only person who showed up after his accident and figured he should do the same for her, even if it was from a distance. Something that all three of them preferred. 

Susan was the first of the recognizable faces to arrive. Coffee and donuts with her. Out of all Kerry’s friends and colleagues, she was the one Sandy felt as if she had gotten to know best. She hadn’t minded her visit so much, even though she hadn’t been in the mood for company. Susan had respected that and largely remained quiet, with the unspoken understanding that she was there if Sandy needed her. At lunch, Abby had come by. Flustered and with an apology that she hadn’t brought anything for Sandy to eat. But she couldn’t stomach anything anyway. 

It was now evening and Sandy was beginning to feel the effects of spending the day hunched over at Kerry’s hospital bed with barely any break; nevermind the hours of sleep deprivation. 

Despite this, the more practical side of her brain was starting to make an appearance and she knew she needed to get some plans in place. After that, she was just going to take this all one day at a time. And today, all she had to do was be here. Once the adrenaline and panic had worn off, albeit replaced with a constant background level anxiousness, she knew she could do this. She had to do this. Tomorrow would be another day, but she’d get through that as well. Together they would get through it all. Or so she thought. 

* * *

Elizabeth discreetly slipped into the ICU, arms by her side as she approached the bed in the furthermost corner. It was late and a certain tense stillness had settled over the room. Like everyone was waiting for something to happen. The buzzing and beeping of the various machines filled the otherwise quiet environment. 

“How are things?” Elizabeth asked, her voice low as she came to stand next to where Sandy was seated. 

“Elizabeth-'' Sandy looked up surprized. She’d figured Kerry had run out of visitors, at least for the day. “They said she might start to wake up in the next day or two, they are lowering the sedation overnight.” She added, not able to hold back a slight grin at the prospect. 

“That’s promising,” Elizabeth smiled and moved up to the foot of the hospital bed. “However, I was more asking about you, how are you holding up?” 

Sandy furrowed her brows, confused at the interest Elizabeth was showing in Kerry and now herself. She’d expected Abby and Susan. They made sense, but Elizabeth? From what she understood, Elizabeth and Kerry had not had the best working relationship recently. 

“I will be better when she is awake.” She answered frankly, watching Elizabeth's hand hover over the chart at the end of the bed. The surgeon never picked it up. 

Sandy checked the time on the clock and sighed. If she was going to speak to her brother, it would have to be now. She didn’t want to disturb him any later than this. She looked around the room and was met with an impression coldness that didn’t exactly make feel able to leave Kerry alone. Not so soon. 

“Can I ask a favor?” Sandy spoke. “I need to make a call, can you sit with her while I am gone? I won’t be long.”

“Of course.”

The phone call was brief, but Sandy felt better having talked to someone she was close to. Someone who knew her. Eduardo, while understandably concerned at what he was hearing, quickly understood that his sister needed reassurance over questions. He’d offered to pass the news on to their parents, but Sandy declined, wanting to speak with them herself. 

Various staff pushed past her as she began her journey back to the ICU, the corridor erupting into a flurry of mild activity. At least for this time of the night. Sandy moved out of their way and leant against the wall, taking a moment to herself, finally feeling as if she could breathe. 

A bunch of noise travelled up the corridor and Sandy tilted her head towards its source. Dread flooded her body and Sandy picked up her pace until she was just about running back to Kerry. 

When she arrived the hospital bed had been laid flat and she watched as Elizabeth ran to the head of the bed, maneuvering herself through a bunch of lines. Elizabeth grabbed hold of Kerry’s head, trying to keep the tube in place, her priority not to let the airway be compromised. But the violent convulsions from the rest of her body made it hard to keep her head still. 

And once again Sandy found herself frozen to the floor, unable to do anything but watch the events unfold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all staying safe. Kerry is back next chapter (sort of) which is good as I have missed writing her.


	5. Hello, I Must Be Going

Kerry had always liked to dream. 

When she was a child, she would dream that she would run. It wasn’t that she hated having her crutch, at least not yet, the other kids would barely mention it. If anything, she liked being a little different, something else that made her unique. It was all she had ever known and her parents had never framed it in a negative light. Her childhood wasn’t entirely perfect, there were doctor’s appointments and later, a general feeling of never quite belonging, but it had an innocent optimism that was long gone. Swept away by adult life. Her parents were generous people, always there for others. The type of people who _wanted_ to be there for others. It was how they got their satisfaction from life. And that is how Kerry grew up to see the world. As a place, where things could be fixed. Where there were solutions and happy endings. And most of all, people there to help you. 

Therefore, crutch or no crutch, Kerry Weaver had been a relatively happy child. 

But still, as she would lean against the wooden fence under the afternoon sun and look over the fields, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to run as the other children did. After school, they would all congregate there, local and foreign children alike, and play until they heard the calls of their parents. Kerry would join them, but she could never quite keep up. She was still weighed down by the metal by her side even if she and everyone around her all but forgot it was there. So in her dreams, Kerry would be running. Running through those vast neverending fields, the wind rushing against her face. Running unconstrained and free. Without pain and fear. As fast as she dared. And every night, she would look forward to her own little dream world. 

When they moved back to Minneapolis, Kerry’s dreams changed. No longer would she dream about running, or skiing, or whatever other activity she thought looked interesting enough. The focus shifted and it became all about the crutch. All about what was wrong with her. She would dream that she was different. Not deformed. Pray and beg that she could be normal. Run track like the popular girls. It wasn’t about the activity, it wasn’t about wanting to run anymore, it was about the image. The uniqueness that she had once found pride in was now drawing a different sort of attention. She had a new identity. And her upbringing by two wannabe missionaries in Africa had left her ill-equipped for the harsh realities of American high school. 

The world wasn’t full of people like her parents. No matter how generous she tried to be, no one was interested in being friends with the freak. The disabled kid. The adopted girl; abandoned by her own 'real' parents because she wasn’t perfect. 

If they didn’t even want her, then why would anyone else?

Kerry quickly learned that not everything could be made better. Friends couldn't be built and some lessons unable to be taught. 

The resentment towards her body and crutch didn’t last long as she came to believe that she would do better by herself. With a thicker skin and the start of what would eventually develop into a comfortableness of her disability within her identity, Kerry went about distinguishing herself in another way. An interest in science and an academic mind led her into a career in medicine. 

However, the ambition did partly stem from the rejection. She wanted it for herself, there was no doubt. But the taunts, the comments, the constraints; she wanted to break free from them all just as much. Show the world that she could be successful. In a way she wanted them to be jealous of her like she had been of them for being normal. A successful career as a doctor had fit that bill well. Rising up through the male-dominated ranks of administration even more so. Then there was the question of relationships. A normal marriage, the illusion of stability, it was tempting and she had grabbed it with both hands. She had even believed in it for a time. Or at least thought that she could make herself believe, make it work if she tried hard enough. 

Because that is how Kerry had ended up learning to navigate the world. By taking control. Not relying on others. To her, there was no other way. 

However, in her current state Kerry found herself very much not in control. The dream-like state of consciousness she existed in came in waves as she struggled in her own body. Struggled for clarity and  synchrony. Sometimes the waves were calm, rhythmically ebbing out and then gently nudging her towards the shore as they returned. Bit by bit, wave by wave, she traveled. Towards a familiarity. It was restful, even if there was no comprehension on Kerry’s part. Just a feeling. She was slowly making her way back towards dry land. Towards safety. 

Other times, the waves were not as kind. They would drag her back into the water and hold her down. Their force would drive her head into the sand, muffled noise and an agonizing pressure flooding her head. She was drowning and there was nothing she could do. There was nobody to move, no arms to fight back with, only a broken mind desperately trying to connect the dots. With every wave, she was assaulted with a consciousness that made no sense. And when they were gone, and she had been washed back out to sea, she would remain barely afloat in this fragmented continuance. Plagued by confusion and turmoil. 

Through it all was one constant. An anchor. 

Sandy. 

It was the only thing she was sure of. Well, as sure as she could be. 

Kerry had no concept of time nor place. No memory. She didn’t know up from down, left from right. Her own mind was a mess, barely able to construct its own thoughts let alone make sense of the world around it. But eventually, Kerry came to know when she was there. 

As the sedation continued to leave her body, the intensity of her awareness grew in a hazy manner. The cocktail of drugs, pain, and her injury created a heightened but blurry filter through which she experienced any stimuli. She could sense people around here. Hear their voices and feel their movements. But she couldn’t listen or communicate. Sometimes she felt them near her, almost on top of her as things were tugged and pulled. Everything was cluttered, all blurring into disconcerting anxiety. It was nothing more than noise. A noise she didn’t want to hear, it was too distracting, at times frightening. Most of the time she just wanted them to be quiet and leave her alone. 

While she couldn’t understand any of what was being said, there was one voice she could recognize. Even if she didn’t speak, Kerry would feel her presence. She knew when she was with her. When she was gone, which wasn’t often. Sandy was the one part of the noise she didn’t want to go. Without even knowing what had happened, Kerry felt as if everything was going to be ok when she was near. So she held onto her, using her to guide her through the roughness. 

And sometimes she could feel her doing the same. Her touch. 

Then the dreams started. Or rather the one dream. A Nightmare. The same sequence of events replaying. Not that Kerry was able to untangle the imagined and the real. But she knew that wherever she was, that something was very wrong. She would see Sandy, in the near distance but she was turned away. She was within her reach, so close she could feel it. But the moment she would call out, Kerry would get the overwhelming feeling that she was meant to be somewhere else. And then she was gone. Separated from her. 

She didn’t understand it but she kept missing Sandy. Over and over again. She would reach out and then she would be gone. 

But she was right there and she needed Sandy to know. 

Because the next time, Kerry worried that Sandy may not be there waiting for her. 

* * *

“So you’re saying this was all normal?” Sandy sat back in the chair beside Kerry’s bed, arms and legs crossed as she eyed the man on the other side disapprovingly. Abby hovered behind her, awkwardly half-leaning against a small bedside cabinet after walking in on a somewhat tense conversation between Sandy and the treating neurosurgeon. 

The doctor cleared his throat as if he was buying some time before he responded, trying to find a middle ground with his patient's partner. “I wouldn’t say normal, but it’s not uncommon for seizures to occur after brain surgery.” He paused for a second and once he felt that his sentence was not going to get him yelled at again he continued. “It’s not always indicative of damage, or that she will go on to develop epilepsy.” 

Sandy buried her head in her hands. While his last words were meant to be reassuring, delivered in an optimist manner, she hadn’t even considered epilepsy or anything similar. Not only did she feel stupidly naive but it was now just another thing to worry about. Another chain positioned around her chest, ready to crush her with relentless dread and hazy guilt that she could not shake off. That she should be doing more. More than sitting and waiting. 

Never in her life did Sandy just sit and wait for something to happen. 

The doctor looked over to Abby who shook her head discreetly, indicating that they should let Sandy have a moment to digest everything. The previously nameless surgeon had now gained an identity, courtesy of the nurses shouting his name as Sandy had watched her wife seize nearly two nights ago. Dr. James, therefore, had not had the most pleasant of re-introductions to Sandy. 

His name was the first thing that had started to annoy Sandy. Irrational as it was, the use of his first name over his last bugged her. Sandy didn’t think that was very professional. Not that professionality had ever particularly bothered her before; that was Kerry’s domain. But he was a neurosurgeon and brain surgery was not something to be casual about. Especially when said brain surgery was being performed on her wife. She had preferred the other doctor who had done most of the talking that first night. 

Abby liked him, but Sandy had said she was biased and had ended her evaluation of him with a rant about how there should be more female neurosurgeons. As they wouldn’t be so arrogant about slicing into people’s brains. However, Sandy’s current appraisal of the man may have been more reflective of the fact that she had barely closed her eyes these past few days. That no one around her seemed to be able to give her a straight answer. As her distress devolved into dejected anger, everyone was finding themselves in the crossfire. No matter what they said or did. 

Right now, Sandy had a hostile relationship with the universe. 

Abby leaned further back against the cabinet, eager to relieve some of the pressure of her aching feet which she had been on all day. Not realizing it was on wheels, she ended up tripping backward and pushing it back. The jarring clang of metal hitting the wall and the sound of various items tumbling onto the floor suddenly made Abby the focus of the room. Sandy and James shot their heads over towards the commotion, which granted a reprieve from the staring contest that Sandy appeared to have started between them. 

Abby's face reddened as she scrambled around on the floor. “Sorry...” She mumbled, picking up a book that had fallen, a well-loved copy of  _ Mansfield Park. Not the type of literature she would have thought Sandy to be reading. But then again Abby had always thought back in college that there was a certain vibe between Franny and Mary. _

__

James moved around the hospital bed to join Sandy on the other side, Abby’s clumsiness breaking some of the tension in the room. “Like we said the other night, her ICP is good and there were no further complications from the seizure. The EEG showed no continuous seizure activity and the scan revealed no new bleeding. There is still some edema, but we were comfortable to withdraw the sedation as planned.” He explained once again and Sandy shoulder’s slightly relaxed as she gave in to his reassurances. “There is a good chance that it was just a one-time thing.”

__

Sandy nodded but she still wasn’t convinced. She wouldn’t be until she actually saw some hint of progress. And wasn’t left feeling like they were taking three steps back with every passing day. “Then why isn’t she awake?” She asked calmly as she could, laying her eyes on the still form of her wife. She was far too still. The only movement, the steady rise, and fall of her chest, not even her own doing. “And I don’t mean awake and talking and walking and all that...I understand that it takes time…but...” 

__

“Kerry suffered a severe head injury. Recovery is not always linear, we don’t always know how long these things are going to take.” He was apologetic, wanting to offer more. He and Abby both watched as Sandy drummed her fingers on the metal of the hospital bed with an escalating pace. 

__

“But you’d expect something by now?” 

__

“In some patients, yes. But like I said, everyone’s different.” 

__

Her brain ignored his last sentence, it didn’t hold any meaning to her. Meaningless words stripped of all their weight. Their credibility. 

__

_ Everyone’s different. _

__

_ Yeah, some people die in hospitals.  _

__

She soon found herself raising her voice louder than she had planned to. “This can’t be happening. You told me!” She swallowed hard, pointing a finger at him. She was so caught up in the moment, lost in the sea of frustration, that she forgot where she was. That there were others around here. That Kerry was there right next to her- but maybe it didn’t even matter. “You told me that once the sedation wore off she’d wake up. It’s been nearly 48 hours!”

__

“We said she could start to, we have -“

__

“Abby, I swear to god they told me!” Sandy jolted up off her seat, swinging her head towards the nurse behind her who almost got a lashing from Sandy’s ponytail. Abby gently placed her hands on either side of Sandy’s arms, ready to guide her outside for a break if need be. 

__

However, before Sandy had the opportunity to speak again, a high-pitched alarm demanded her attention. Grounding her back to the very person that she was fighting for. It was like it was meant for her. She flinched, though not from fright that there was something wrong. No, the noise was over as quickly as it had begun and a brief glance at the faces around her showed no sign of immediate concern. Still, she felt sick at the thought. That there was an awareness. The unfriendly energy, the yelling, the movement. How confusing that must be. How terrifying, when you are trapped laying in a bed with no autonomy. No clear thoughts or method to express yourself. All alone in the darkness. 

__

The thought that she may have done that. Scared her. It broke her. 

__

Exhausted, Sandy wilted back into the chair. Her bones all but collapsing over the hospital bed as she lent over it to hold Kerry’s arm. She cursed herself; not only had she been making things hard for her doctors but now also her wife. 

__

“Sandy, I am not going to stand here and pretend to understand what this is like for you. But I can stand here and tell you as a doctor, that just because she hasn’t woken up yet, it does not mean that she won’t. It doesn’t even mean that we can’t start to consider extubating her soon. If I am not panicking, then you certainly don’t need to be panicking. Not yet. We just have to give her a little more time.” He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Sandy’s arm. “I have seen patients through this before and I am going to try my damn best to do the same for Kerry and you.”

__

Sandy nodded, looking upwards at the ceiling as her vision was flooded with hot tears.“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely audible, a crack away from breaking into a full-body sob. “I’m so sorry” She repeated again, barely a whisper, this time leaning close to Kerry. 

__

__

* * *

__

  
  
“I shouldn’t have yelled at him.“ 

__

The elevator dinged and two women exited onto the floor with a shared trepidation that seemed to plague all inhabitants there. They made their way along the corridor, coming to a stop before the ICU entrance. 

__

“I’m sure he has seen worse, I know I have.” Abby paused, taking a sip of her coffee before nodding in confirmation. “Today actually.” She added, continuing with a brief description of her morning shift in the ER. 

__

Sandy offered a hint of an amused smile, which pleased Abby who was relieved she had convinced her to go and grab a coffee. Sandy couldn’t deny that the chance to stretch her legs had felt good, even if the hot beverage itself left a lot to be desired. 

__

“I’m just angry. Angry at waiting, not knowing, being watched 24/7,” She eyed the nurse’s station through the window, before looking back at Abby. “No offense.”

__

Abby laughed. “This place will do that to you.”

__

Sandy shook the  styrofoam cup in her hand, feeling its hot liquid content swirl around inside as it hit the sides. The self-contained whirlpool she had generated in the cup mirrored the one she and Kerry had found themselves caught in. Both women, unable to find their footing nor swim out of it. Instead, left at the mercy of the water as it threw them around. Never letting them settle for long. Not letting them find each other. All they could do was ride it out and hope that they would still have each other on the other side. 

__

And hope that what they once had would still be recognizable. Salvageable. 

__

“I’m angry that the person who did this is just out there. In the world, living their life. While we are stuck in here. No idea when we will get out.” Sandy sighed. “When things will be okay again.  _ If _ they ever will be again.” 

__

The anger that had inched its way into every free space left in Sandy’s body was exhausting as it was distracting. There was no outlet for it. Every time she looked at Kerry it was all she could think of. Someone doing this to her. The swelling had gone down considerably, but the bruises on Kerry’s body looked as if they had taken up permanent residence. Stubborn and ranging from deep purple to yellow tones. Each one telling its own story of horror. A snapshot of that night. She found it hard to ignore the rage they incited, accentuated by the fact that she had nothing else to focus on. As far as she was aware, life had frozen still until Kerry awoke. 

__

She had nothing to put this energy towards. No one to go and hunt down. Not that she even particularly wanted to. All she truly wanted was for this to have never had happened. 

__

“Do you think she knows what happened?” 

__

“With her head injury, I’d say there is a fairly good chance she won’t remember a lot.” Abby offered. Her first thought had been how this may be for the best. Having no memory of something that was clearly so violent. 

__

But how do you resolve trauma if you cannot even remember what happened? What happens if you are only left with the scares? A constant reminder of what was stolen from you, but no way to work through it. She knew from personal experience that she had wanted to know every detail, no matter how painful. 

__

Sandy tucked back a lock of hair as she raised her head to look at Abby, rephrasing her question. “No I mean, do you think she knew what was happening? Did she just pass out?” Her voice grew stronger at the end as if she was looking for confirmation of a statement rather than an answer. 

__

“I don’t know.” Abby neglected to mention the defensive wounds that were on her body, which she was sure Sandy knew of anyway. “Have the police said anything?”

__

Sandy shook her head, gulping down the last of her coffee and throwing it in a nearby trash can. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, though it was desirable to the dryness that had left her feeling like she couldn’t swallow. 

__

“I can stay a bit longer-” Abby offered, glazing down at her watch. 

__

“No, it’s alright. I’m good.”

__

“Well, you know where we all are if you need anything.”

__

Sandy smiled. “I am not totally sure if Kerry would like all you been up here, but I think that’s because she has it in her head that you all don’t like her very much.”

__

“She’s our boss...” Abby said, losing the end of her sentence. She wasn’t sure what she had been planning to say, but she quickly recovered. “We are all family down there. You know how it is.”

__

Sand nodded, turning her towards the window looking into the ICU and speaking into the distance. “I hope she knows she is not alone.”

__

Abby narrowed her eyes, noting what she presumed to be a couple that had arrived on the floor moving towards her and Sandy. They were saying something, both looking somewhat lost. As they got closer, she heard Sandy’s name being called and it clicked. 

__

“Uh, Sandy? I think your parents are here.”

__

Sandy turned her head back sharply, her voice a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “What?” 

__

Abby stepped aside, letting Sandy push past her and towards her parents. Not wanting to intrude she took the moment to excuse herself quietly and slip back down to the ER. 

__

“Mom? Dad?”

__

“You look tired,” Florina raised her hands to Sandy’s face and pleaded, “come home with us.”

__

“No..no...mom,” She protested, pulling her mother’s hands down off her cheeks, taking them into her own and squeezing them to reassure her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already been home once. I'm fine.”

__

With a deep frown, Florina eyed her daughter top to bottom. “You need to sleep, eat!” 

__

Sandy shook her head, growing confused as to just how her parents came to be standing in front of her. “Who called you?”

__

“Your brother told us, he was concerned about you. We are all concerned.” 

__

Sandy seethed internally at her brother for betraying her trust and her parents (namely her mother) for waltzing in here thinking they could tell her what she should be doing. 

__

“About me? What about Kerry, you haven’t even bothered to ask about her!” She spat out, studying her mother’s face closely as she mentioned Kerry’s name. Looking for any signs of emotion, good or bad, but it remained an infuriating stoic expression that she couldn’t read. 

__

“We are concerned about her as well but you can’t stay here all the time. You’ll run yourself into the ground.” This time it was Guillermo who spoke, his voice measured as he felt the tension rising between the two women. 

__

“And what about your work?” Florina butted in sternly as if she had just found the upper hand in an argument. 

__

Sandy sighed, wanting to roll her eyes back and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Her parents had never cared for her career and now it was apparently at the top of their concerns. Being a lesbian was enough for them to work through and then she had to go off and become a lesbian firefighter. It was fine for her brother to want to save lives in burning buildings, but when it had been Sandy it was a different story. They were still proud of her, even if they couldn't quite understand why she chose that life for herself. They wanted her to have an education and career but they had also wanted her to settle down, have a family, and enjoy the life they had built for her in the same way that they had. Firefighting had not been what they had envisioned for her. 

__

“Thank you for coming, I mean it.” She said, not wanting their visit to devolve into an argument. It wasn’t who they were. And she knew her parents were only worried about her. She just wished her parents were as worried about  _ them  _ as they were her. That they saw them as a pair. That they came together now. “But I am not going with you. I am staying here.” She gave each of them a quick hug before she walked away, surprised that there were no further complaints from them as she did. 

__

“Is she going to be okay?” Florina asked.

__

Sandy looked back, not quite believing that those words had indeed come from her mother and not some other passerby. 

__

“I honestly don’t know.”

__

There was a moment when Sandy thought her mother was going to come after her. With open arms and a promise that she would make things better. Tell her that everything was going to be okay. It had been so long since they had shared a moment like that. And Sandy could see it in her mother's eyes. That she felt it as well. 

__

But, in the end, that moment never came. 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to sneak this update in before the end of 2020! 
> 
> I wish I could speak Spanish and made that last scene more personal, but I am awful with languages in general (I guess I would be better of writing Luka fanfic badly lol?). Anyway, I promise to stop torturing Sandy soon (at least the kind of torture where she is waiting for her wife to wake from a literal coma) and I am quite excited about the next chapter which I have already started (there is quite a bit going on *nervous laughter*).
> 
> Wishing you all a lovely (socially distanced) New Year!


	6. Run - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, a quick note before we start. I'm posting these two chapters together as they were originally one chapter (that got a bit long) and I feel they should still be read together-ish. So, don't forget to hit 'next chapter' when you get to the end of this one (if you want to of course)!

The crunching of the gravel below could be heard with every step as she jogged at a steady pace along the path. Despite the anxiety she had about being away from the place, it felt good to move freely; the confines of the hospital had left her feeling constrained and suffocated of late. Looking ahead, she squinted her eyes. The morning sun was gleaming down brightly onto the park, though it had done little to elevate Sandy’s mood. Tomorrow would mark a week since _the accident_. She didn’t know what to call it, but an accident didn’t seem right. Someone was responsible. 

_The incident? The attack? A week since my wife had a brick thrown at her head and hasn’t said a word since?_

_A week since everything went so wrong._

The desirable weather had brought out a bunch of parents and their young children who all gathered on the grass. Her attention was drawn to them as she circled the area along the path; their strollers, toys, and distant laughter. Only a couple of weeks ago she would look at them and imagine her own future. Now it was different. All of them were perfectly positioned to remind Sandy that life did indeed continue. She wished that it wouldn’t. That it would just pause and give them a chance to catch up. A chance to breathe. 

Deciding she would rather not have other people’s ‘normal and happy lives’ pushed in her face, she switched from her jog to a fast run. Her body protested, already worn out from the previous activity but also from the lack of rigorous movement it had had in the last week. Sandy focused on every twinge in her muscles, the coolness of the wind against her damp face, the blood rushing behind her ears. Because at this moment, it was a welcome distraction from the world around her. 

Physical activity was not only something she subscribed to regularly for her profession but also for her mind. It provided a break from life. But her exercise schedule, something that kept her sane, had been thrown out the window along with any other remnant of structure. She thought she would be used to it. Their prolonged limbo. And every night she would fall asleep sure that she couldn’t possibly wake up feeling any worse. Anymore mentally and physically drained. But without fail, she would and she didn’t know how much more of it she could take.

Two days ago, Sandy would have been ecstatic at the small progress that had been made. But back then she hadn’t expected it to feel so anti-climatic. Or at least she had expected some of the weight to leave her body. But none of the anxiety had lessened, not even a little. Instead, new worries dug themselves into her mind. 

Maybe it was selfish of her, but she just wanted something to make _her_ feel better. As much as Kerry herself needed something, she did as well. Something she could hold onto. Because the rope she was currently grasping onto was cut and frayed, coming apart faster than she could repair it. Sooner or later something was bound to break. 

The ‘anything’ Sandy that had been waiting for had finally come. It wasn’t much, but after days of waiting and watching, the small movements that Kerry started to make were more than relieving and Sandy had clutched onto them with every piece of mental energy she had left. Blink and you’d miss them, but things were going to get better now. That was what she had to hold on to. 

However, it wasn't long before every slight motion left her wanting more. Something more meaningful. But it wasn’t there. There was no response to commands. No purpose. Perhaps they were nothing more than a dying mind sending off wayward signals while it still could. A flame flickering in the wind. Burning out. Sandy would take her hand in her own and squeeze, her breath hitched as she waited and prayed for Kerry to return the gesture. The seconds felt like hours and they would always end the same; with Kerry’s hand remaining still and toneless in her own. 

Nonetheless, it was still something and she tried to be patient. And it looked like her patience was rewarded when Kerry’s eyelids started to twitch. However, when they did separate long enough to see what was behind them, Kerry’s eyes were dull and lost. Memories of her once bright and vivid eyes were now permanently replaced in Sandy’s brain with the image of her half-open sluggish eyelids revealing nothing but coldness. Sandy searched them for recognition but they had looked straight through her before closing again. 

That was the moment she had been dreaming of all week but it ended up breaking her. And Sandy fell hard. She knew it would be like this, that it would take a while for her to wake up fully but even behind the tiredness, drugs, or pain, Sandy couldn’t see anything. Kerry wasn’t there. She wasn’t with her. Not yet. 

Naturally came an even more concerning thought. Was that now all that was left? 

And if the universe had proven anything to Sandy in the past week, it was that nothing could go right for them. Soon talks of weaning her off the ventilator seemed to dissipate as concern grew over a spiking temperature. Kerry’s body returned to stillness as an unhealthy grey pallor took over her face. Blood cultures were taken and that night Sandy found it hard to remain grounded. The once vast open ICU ward felt like it was encroaching towards her. Towards finality.

By early this morning the identity of the gram-negative bacterium had been confirmed and there were good signs that the antibiotics were doing their job. With that in mind, for the first time since she had first sat down at her wife’s bedside a feeling of quite literally wanting to crawl out of her own skin outweighed the need to be with her. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be back, and soon, but she needed to get out before she watched something else fall apart in front of her. 

Not used to having a running partner, Sandy hadn’t realized that she had lost her’s some time ago. No longer hearing the sound of someone trailing behind her, she looked over her shoulder, making out a figure in the near distance. Slowing down, she diverted her run towards the direction of a water fountain. It was a few minutes before she heard someone coming up behind her, panting, and she finished drinking. Sandy pushed herself away and freed up the fountain.

“I thought you surgeons were meant to have endurance.” She watched as Elizabeth stumbled towards the water source and leaned heavily against it. 

“We do.” Elizabeth shot back, before ducking her head down for a gulp of water. Her argument was slightly undermined by a mild coughing fit that soon followed. “You’re a firefighter, it hardly seems like a fair comparison.” She managed to get out between breaths. 

In the end, it hadn’t been her parents, Abby or Susan that convinced her to take a proper break from the hospital. It had been Elizabeth Corday. Well, convinced wasn’t quite the right word, as Sandy was already getting ready to leave when Elizabeth had put the idea forward. Sandy, having not exactly planned where she was going to go once she left the hospital grounds, agreed. Elizabeth wasn’t someone she knew very well, but she couldn’t face going back to her empty apartment just yet or to her parents’ place. She needed the distraction and reasoned that was no expectation that she had to engage in any conversation (and that she could quite literally run away from it). 

Chuckling, Sandy pulled up the sleeve of her jacket to check her watch. “It’s nearly 11, you should get going. I can walk back to my apartment.” She said, feeling as if she had already eaten into enough of her time. 

Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t be silly, I can drop you home as well.” Sandy was about to speak again, but a waving hand appeared near her face and she surrendered. 

Lowering herself onto a soft spot of grass with a groan, Elizabeth began to mumble something about her feet. Sandy zoned out, arms crossed as shuffled on her feet. 

“It’s these stupid shoes!” She exclaimed. “Though if my father was here he would say a that bad workman always blames his tools.” She said, rolling her eyes as she leaned back onto her elbows and patted the spot next to her. But Sandy didn’t join and continued to hover next to her somewhat awkwardly. 

“Well, the car is just over here so you don’t have to walk far.” 

“Okay, let’s go” Elizabeth replied, sensing that Sandy was keen to depart either the park or her presence. Or both. She didn’t blame her. There was a fine line between helping someone and suffocating them. She knew that from experience and the last thing Elizabeth wanted to do was overstep. 

What had happened to Kerry had occupied Elizabeth’s mind far more than she had expected it to. They were all concerned but it was as if her grief-ridden brain was latching onto something external that she could put her energy towards. Something that she could help with. That was still _fixable_. She struggled not to be reminded of herself when she saw Sandy, the situations different but the emotions so similar, but inside herself, nothing felt fixable anymore. 

“But you’re going to have to help me up.” She said with an outstretched arm that Sandy grabbed onto. Sandy helped Elizabeth back onto her feet and the pair made their way over to where they were parked, Elizabeth brushing the grass of her clothes as they walked. 

With Elizabeth focused on the driving, Sandy was left alone with her thoughts. The women fell in and out of awkward silence a few times, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice the tense woman next to her staring out into the distance. She knew that look. 

“You know, it helps to talk,” Elizabeth said, reciting something she had likely heard from one of the few therapists she had seen. But it felt natural, talking was good. She missed talking. “It doesn’t always feel like it, but it does. Make sure you have someone.” 

Sandy debated her response. She knew what Elizabeth was doing as she didn’t like it. She didn't want her and Kerry's situation likened to what Elizabeth went through with Mark. They weren’t going to end up like them. She pushed herself closer into the side of the car. She was used to having people around her, she was from a large family after all, but for the first time, she found herself understanding why Kerry had a habit of isolating herself from people. 

Swallowing hard, she replied. “I have Kerry.” 

“Mark was my person too.” Elizabeth nodded, a smile falling on her lips.

“Kerry isn’t dead.”

The two women jerked forward as Elizabeth came to a particularly hard stop at a red light. Sandy scrunched her face up, unable to look at Elizabeth after what she had just said. She was scared. The situation was scary. And people caring made it scarier. At times having them all around her, Kerry’s friends and colleagues, it felt like they were preparing her for something she didn’t need. 

“Elizabeth...I’m sorry. That wasn’t right.”

There was no acknowledgment of her apology and Elizabeth instead pulled into a space outside the apartment building. There were a couple of moments of silence before she spoke, her tone far softer than Sandy was expecting. After all, Elizabeth knew what it was like to say something regretful. “It’s still hard either way. And it’s going to be even harder for her, so you need to be able to be strong.”

Sandy nodded, finding it hard to express her thoughts. She was appreciative of Elizabeth. Despite her initial reaction, she accepted the truth in her words. No matter how she tried to look at it, this was going to last longer than a week. And she felt alone. Her family didn’t understand. Her friends were there but hardly any of them had gotten to know Kerry. Not properly. And then there was Abby and Susan. They seemed to be always around, but they were Kerry’s friends, not her’s. None of them felt like they could be there for her. Not with this. She hadn’t quite realized how disconnected her life with Kerry was from everything else until now. 

But Elizabeth was different. Not many people understood what this was like.

Maybe she did need someone. 

“Thanks. For the ride and this morning.” Sandy opened the door and climbed out. She stood for a moment on the pavement, hand gripping the door ready to close it but instead she crouched back down and poked her head inside the car. “You wouldn’t have time for a coffee would you?” She asked, biting down on her lip and signaling her head towards the apartment building. 

Elizabeth simply unbuckled her seatbelt in reply.

“You and Kerry,” Elizabeth pondered as they walked into the elevator. Sandy turned her head towards her with a raised brow. “You’re kind of similar now that I think about it...somewhat stubborn...don’t like listening to others.” She elaborated. “Your arguments must be fun.” 

Sandy shot her a glare jokingly. “Don’t make me regret inviting you in.” She said, pressing the button for her floor. “And for the record, we didn’t -” Sandy paused, rephrasing her sentence, “we don’t actually argue that much.” 

“I suppose she must get all that out at work.” 

Sandy’s mouth curled upwards, the fact that Kerry would very much not be appreciating their current conversation if she was here only making Elizabeth’s comment that little bit more amusing. And the two women finally let go of some nervous energy as they laughed. 

Opening the apartment door, Sandy was met with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. Not dissimilar to when you arrive home from a long vacation. Everything felt familiar but not quite right. Only this was far worse than a post-vacation low. The place was lifeless. She placed her keys down on the table where Kerry’s gloves were still sitting, guilt eating away at her for laughing at her expense only a moment previously. A patient belongings bag sat neatly on the couch. Inside Kerry’s clothing, what she had been wearing that night. Susan and Abby had made sure it had all been cleaned, but Sandy still hadn’t touched it. 

“Tea or coffee, Sandy?”

“Umm,” She looked up, surprised to see Elizabeth pulling open blinds and already halfway to the kitchen. “Coffee I guess.” 

“I have around 20 minutes before I’m expected back, do you want a lift back to the hospital as well?”

“Not it’s okay, I’ve got a few things I need to do,” Sandy replied as she checked the answering machine. There was a catalog of missed calls and messages and Sandy deleted them all in one go. 

Just as she was about to walk away, the phone rang and she glanced at the number coming up on the receiver. She had little intention of answering the call, but the number was familiar. She couldn’t place it but something told her it was important and she found herself picking it up. 

“Sandy Lopez speaking.”

Elizabeth searched the kitchen as she half tuned in to Sandy on the phone. She didn’t want to pry but Sandy had taken on a rather serious tone. It didn’t sound as if she was talking to family or friends and Elizabeth wondered if it was someone from the hospital. She paused what she was doing for a moment to listen closer, making out something about an appointment. 

Returning to her task, she located a box of instant coffee sachets. Shaking her head, Elizabeth decided that it would be better to give Sandy’s taste buds a break from sub-standard beverages and moved her focus to the french press sitting on the counter next to a packet of ground coffee beans. She poured the hot water into the plunger and got the carton of milk out of the fridge, eyeing the various photographs that had been stuck up on the door. There was one of Kerry and Sandy together, pictured against a tropical sunset, relaxed and glowing under the light. 

The photo was a stark contrast to the Kerry that Elizabeth knew at work. Here she was comfortable, affectionate. Elizabeth was never put off by Kerry’s management style like others, she knew how it all worked and for the most part, the two had always been amicable. But it was a shock seeing her so casual. As a person and not the enemy. She had been so angry at her. She still was angry at her. Angry at the way she had treated Mark. Elizabeth found her so untactful at times, she didn’t understand it, how it could not come from a place of malice. But did it even matter now? The anger. The contempt. The regret. One of them was dead and the other was lying in a coma. Was there really time for all that? Had their jobs not taught them anything? That life was precious. Not to be wasted on petty hang-ups. 

Elizabeth didn’t even know anymore. 

She heard Sandy finishing up the call and quickly stirred the coffees, hoping that Sandy usually took sugar and milk in hers. Carrying a cup in each hand Elizabeth walked over to her, satisfied that the call was not something concerning as Sandy hadn’t said anything. But as she got closer she realized that Sandy was still holding on tightly to the phone in her hand. She couldn’t see her face, but something wasn’t right. Her body was rigid and unmoving. Sitting the cups down carefully on the table, Elizabeth approached her cautiously, not wanting to spook her. 

“Sandy, are you okay? Has something happened?”

“I just told them.” 

“Told them what?”

Sandy turned around, her eyes glassy. “I said we would be there...I made another appointment. I don’t know why I did that..they have our...” Her voice was quiet, but her breaths were quick and as sharp as struggled to put together her sentences. “It was the fertility clinic.” She looked down, eyes trailing to the ground, hair falling and covering her face. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll call them back for you and explain everything. It’s okay.” Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her eyes wide with concern as she began to understand what had happened. “Sandy, don’t worry.” She reassured again, trying to get through to Sandy. 

Sandy took a few shaky steps backward before throwing the handset to Elizabeth and fleeing into her bedroom. She leaned back against the door, feeling it click shut as she brought her hands up to her face. Her nails ever so slightly dug into her hairline as she tried to remain in control. 

She couldn’t move. Frozen as if even a flinch would trigger a cascade of emotion she feared she would be unable to stop. She dropped her hands by her side and pressed her palms against the door. The coolness of the painted wood felt good against her burning thoughts. Though as she tried to steady her breathing she ended up becoming acutely aware of Elizabeth’s voice only a wall away from her. 

She closed her eyes tight and constricted her throat so no sound came out when she yelled. She didn’t want Elizabeth to hear. To see her like this. She needed to be alone. 

When she opened her eyes again it was the first thing she saw. Sitting there on the dresser. Looking at her. Mocking her. Stepping forward she picked it up and threw it hard against the wall in a fit of rage. The fluffy toy elephant made contact with the plaster with a thump, before falling to the ground. 

* * *

“We don’t usually have ED nurses up here examining our every move.” The respiratory therapist squinted as she looked at Abby’s badge on her uniform, not impressed with the one person audience that she appeared to be performing to this morning. 

Abby remained still, watching over Kerry with a gentle grip on her arm that she hoped she would find comforting. There was an uneasy tightness in the pit of her stomach and without Sandy here she felt a strange sense of protectiveness over the older woman. But short of vetting Kerry's entire medical team she didn’t quite know what to do with the feeling.

On the one hand, this was a step in the right direction but as she looked down at her it hardly seemed as if Kerry was ready for such a step. There was very little indication that she was aware of this world at all. And this coupled with the fact that she was still very likely fighting off an infection, the idea of Kerry breathing relatively unassisted for the next half hour was, to put it simply, borderline terrifying despite her rational side telling her to relax. What if it was too much?

Keeping her head still, Abby shot an unreadable glance at the other women, momentarily making eye contact before returning her focus back to Kerry. “Just pretend I am invisible.” She eventually replied.

The respiratory therapist sighed in defeat. She was unsure of the exact relationship between the two women, but whatever it was, she could tell that Abby was not going anywhere soon. Flicking through the paper attached to her clipboard, she checked over the order she had been sent by the critical care physician.

Ready to go, she picked up the nebulizer and tubing, before attaching it to the flowmeter on the wall. Abby perked her head up and followed along with every step as the respiratory therapist made the correct adjustments and set the pieces of equipment to 35% and 8L respectively.

Feeling two holes being burnt into her back once again, the therapist swung around on her feet with an exasperated exhale of air. “It’s kind of off-putting, you watching over my shoulder like that.” She said, one hand on her hip as she placed the other end of the tubing on the head of the hospital bed.

Abby stood up straight, giving Kerry’s arm a final light rub before crossing her arms. “I am here as a friend, not a nurse.” She said, with a strained smile.

“Alright then.” The woman maneuvered herself under some lines and came to stand in position at the side of the bed. “Do you want to help talk her through some of the procedure? It might be nicer hearing a familiar voice.” She asked. 

Abby nodded, though she wasn’t sure how much of this Kerry was going to understand. Which only heightened the anxiety she was experiencing. In the ED, the majority of patients she ever extubated were reasonably alert and even then the experience could be confusing and uncomfortable. Though this wasn’t quite the same thing, the thought of someone disconnecting you abruptly from the device that had been breathing for you for the past week seemed awfully frightening to Abby. Let alone when you were in the state Kerry was in. 

“Dr. Weaver, Kerry?” The therapist leaned down closer, a fist pressing into the mattress as she began. “My name is Shana, I am one of the respiratory therapists here. We are going to do a breathing trial in a minute to see about removing that tube, okay.” Despite the movement, and noise around her, Kerry remained unmoving and Shana looked up at Abby. “Nurse Lockhart is here as well.” 

“Hey, it’s Abby, I’m here.” She stepped forward at the other side of the bed and applied gentle pressure to her shoulder, careful not to disturb any lines and what still looked like a tender area. The action elicited a flinch from Kerry and Abby watched as her hand sluggishly moved outwards, the back of her fingers brushing against her thigh that was up against the side railing. “There you are.” Abby let out a shaky laugh. “They are just going to hook you up to wall oxygen for a bit, don’t worry.” She spoke softly, hoping it would be enough to keep Kerry calm if she was in any way distressed. 

“She responded to stimulus, she hasn’t really been doing that much.” Abby fiddled with her fingers as she explained, not able to mask the tentative smile on her face. Though she felt a twinge of guilt that she was here and not Sandy. Abby knew how much she had been struggling these past couple of days, hoping that at least Sandy was managing to get some form rest of now and that there would be good news to report when she returned. 

Shana switched the ventilator onto standby. “I am going to disconnect you from the ventilator now, Kerry.” She brought around the tubing that was at the head of the bed and connected it to the t-piece in place of the vent tubing she had just removed. 

Subconsciously, Abby held her breath as she watched the trial begin. The high of the brief contact she had with Kerry before was replaced with anxiety as she made sure her chest continued to rise and fall. Before she had a chance to marinate too long in her trepidation, Shana signaled to the stethoscope that sat beside Abby on a cabinet. 

Abby passed it to her and she began her exam. “Just going to listen to your breathing now, focus on taking deep breaths.” She said with a reassuring genuineness, despite it all being part of a well-rehearsed routine she had performed many times before. When she was finished, Shana swapped the stethoscope in her hands for her clipboard in which she began to take notes. 

Without her own task to busy her mind, Abby focused on keeping Kerry company. Pulling over a chair, Abby sat down and tried to think of something of value to say but anything she came up with felt awkward and stilted. “Hey, I’m still here. And Sandy will be back soon.”

However, she didn’t remain seated for long when a high pitched noise pierced her ears. Her eyes darted nervously from the Shana to the monitor and back, barely taking enough time to take in what she saw. “Sats are dropping.” She relayed, forgetting where she was and ready to jump into action like she would in a trauma. 

Shana put a hand up towards Abby, putting a block on her mental spiral, and turned her head to look at the monitor. “It’s okay. She is doing well.” She smiled as the sound dissipated. “We will keep monitoring her closely for the next 30 minutes and reassess things as we go.” 

Shana finished up her notes and placed them on a side table, before coming to stand next to Abby. “And I thought you weren’t a nurse here?” She said lightly. 

Abby sat back down with a guilty smile. “Old habits die hard.” She replied. Irritatingly, all the talk of breathing had left Abby with the uncomfortable sensation of being aware of every breath she was taking. To distract herself, she focused back on Kerry, letting her own breathing rhythm adapt to hers. 

The half an hour passed quickly. There were a couple more times when an alarm or two demanded their attention and Abby wasn’t entirely able to relax, but throughout the process, Kerry appeared fine. And Shana had seemed pleased when she had left, though was tight-lipped when it came to giving out any details. Which as much as it had irked Abby, was as per hospital policy, the correct thing to do. 

“Did I miss anything?” 

Abby quickly vacated her seat by Kerry’s bedside as she saw Sandy arrive. A flustered Sandy pushed past Abby to the chair, throwing the small tote bag she had over her shoulder to the ground and taking her wife’s hand; longing for contact after their period of separation. 

“They went ahead with the breathing trial.” Abby nodded, her hands in her scrub pant pockets fiddling with a pen. 

Sandy looked away to the side, running a hand through her hair that had been hastily thrown up into a bun. “I didn’t mean to be so long.” Her tone wasn’t so much frustrated as it was regretful. And the way her voice almost cracked made Abby realize it looked as if the woman next to her had been crying. That her red and puffy eyes were not just from an extended morning nap. 

Not feeling that it was best to go down that route now, Abby kept the conversation on track and focused on trying to reassure Sandy rather than comfort her. “I think it went well.”

“What now?” Sandy sighed, letting her hand drop from her hair allowing a couple of unruly curls to fall down the side of her face. 

“Well the RT and doctors are discussing it now probably. They should come and speak to you soon.” As Abby was speaking she noticed a group walking over to them. “Right now actually.”

Two members of the group went off in their own directions as they walked through the ICU, leaving just the intensivist and Dr James the neurologist to arrive at Kerry’s hospital bed. “Sandy, you’ve met us both before.” 

Sandy didn’t respond to the statement, instead, she gently tucked a piece of hair away and off Kerry’s face. Something she had been so scared of doing only days previously, for fear of hurting her even more. “I thought you weren’t going to do the breathing thing today, I wouldn’t have left -” She said. 

“Dr. Weaver was stable enough for the trial so I went ahead with the order.” 

She turned her body around on the chair so she was facing the two male doctors, keeping a hand on top of Kerry’s. “So are you going to take her off the vent? Abby -” Sandy looked up to Abby who was standing behind her and then back to the men. “She said it went well.”

The intensivist sighed, taking a step forward. Sandy matched his movements by straightening back into her chair as much as she could, taking on an uncomfortable-looking tense posture. 

“Her level of consciousness is still quite depressed. There is little localization to pain, little significant eye-opening.” He began. “So while there is spontaneous breathing, which is a good sign, it tells us that there is good neuromuscular function, the concern is that if we were to extubate now she wouldn't be able to protect her airway and that it would eventually fail.” 

Abby saw Sandy’s demeanor visibly flatten as she sunk back into the chair. And her own demeanor became one of mild skepticism. She knew how some of these medical decisions were not always as set in stone as they appeared. That sometimes these decisions came down to the fact that there weren’t enough staff on that particular shift. 

“That’s not a guarantee though.” She stepped forward, arms crossed. “As far as I can tell she could just as likely come off the ventilator well, there was no concern from the RT during the trial.” She advocated. 

“Is she right? I mean, didn’t she pass the breathing thing?” Sandy asked, her brown eyes wide, drawing confidence from Abby. 

“Nurse Lockhart. Please.” James said in a calm but stern tone and Abby withdrew back with pressed lips, annoyed but coming to the decision that it wouldn’t be the best idea to pursue this any further. If only not to confuse Sandy anymore. 

James turned to Sandy. “There is no one outcome we use to determine a pass or fail, we look at a number of criteria and we all agree that it would be in her best interest to wait for further improvement before we extubate.”

“And when will that be?” 

“It could be soon. But as you know, every patient follows a different recovery. It’s impossible to say. We just have to wait.” 

Sandy rolled her head back. “That has its own risks though, her fever, infections. Surely it would be better...”

“Prolonged intubation does increase the likelihood of nosocomial infections. But her lungs are clear and we have her on broad spectrum antibiotics right now.” The intensive cut into Sandy’s sentence with vague medical terms designed to create the illusion of answering questions without entirely doing so, something that rubbed both Sandy and Abby the wrong way. 

Sandy rubbed her shoulder as she looked in deep thought. “Okay. Thank you.” She curtly replied, announcing her disengagement from the conversation and Abby watched as she retreated back into her bubble with Kerry. The two doctors looked somewhat startled, not used to been brushed off and excused themselves. 

“Look, I'm sorry if I gave you premature hope or anything. I thought they’d go ahead with it…” Abby came around to stand in front of Sandy as they departed. “You ok? She asked. 

It was the sort of question Abby asked numerous times a day and one that undoubtedly Sandy was getting sick of hearing. The type of question that only ever received one of two answers. The barely audible ‘no’ as they dissolved into tears or the emotionally restrained ‘i’m fine’ when they really weren’t. And while Abby cared and wanted an honest answer, she never expected it to actually come from Sandy. 

“Not really,” Sandy replied.


	7. Run - Part II

Sandy pushed the off button down on her phone with a little more force than was needed after it buzzed in her pocket for the second time since leaving her apartment. Her parents had been calling at home for the past couple of days and Sandy now assumed they had now finally entered the 21st century and wrangled her cell number off one of her siblings. 

After the previous day, Sandy was feeling more useless than usual. And full of a whole lot more self-hatred; at levels that she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager. That her own selfishness had prevented her from being with Kerry. After a week of sitting by her bedside, the one time she could have actually been of help, she was off feeling sorry for herself about the IVF. 

Kerry had needed her but instead, it was Abby that was there. Abby who had sat by her, Abby who had spoken to her, and Abby who Kerry had literally reached out for with her hand. She wasn’t even jealous. Just angry. Angry at herself. The fact was, that when it came down to it, she had been more preoccupied and upset about non-existent babies than her actual wife.

Or at least that was how Sandy had gotten it all twisted in her mind. 

Most of all, the inability to plan for anything was driving her insane. Kerry had taken exception at times to Sandy’s indecisive and ‘chilled’ nature as she had eventually dubbed it. It was true, Sandy had her ways of doing things but overall, she liked to go with the flow. But this was one situation where she was happy for someone to sit her down with a piece of paper and take her through every day of the next month for her. 

Restocking her barren kitchen was one of the things she could do right now and for once was feeling up to the task. After speaking to Abby yesterday and the vague ‘it could be soon’ comment, Sandy’s mind was now overly fixated about keeping the apartment ready for Kerry when she came home. Even if that event was likely a while off; rationality appeared to be becoming less and less part of her decision making these days. But it was something she could put her energy towards. Shopping was something she could do right now. It wasn’t enough, but it was all there was. 

Sandy turned the corner and into the avenue. At first glance, the street was quiet for a Saturday morning. The small cafes and general stores that lined the local street appeared to be missing a few of their usual patrons, but a look at her watch told Sandy that it was still somewhat early. However, as her sight adjusted for the distance she noticed a sizable group of people who had gathered around halfway down. 

Then it hit her. The familiar but just as concerning smell. Smoke. And then she noticed that the people were not only gathered but also pacing and pointing towards a particular building in a scene of rising commotion. She ran towards them, arriving to find the storefront of a two-story building alight with a healthy sized blaze. 

Switching into professional mode, she went about ushering the crowd back as best she could, relieved that most of them were already observing the fire from a relatively safe distance. The group continued to chatter, worried whispers traveling through them but none of them looked particularly distraught apart from an older lady who was still standing close to the burning variety store and crying out in a language that Sandy did not recognize. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” She approached the woman, who she assumed either owned the shop or lived in what looked like a private residence upstairs. 

The lady barely registered Sandy’s presence, continuing to speak fast as she looked up. “Elena!” 

Sandy’s stomach dropped. “Who’s Elena? Is she in there?” She pointed towards the building but the lady dissolved into tears before she got an answer. Sandy unsure if it was because she didn’t know or wasn’t able to communicate what she did know. 

The older woman grabbed onto her arms with desperation, her dark eyes pleading. The sudden contact momentarily started Sandy who hadn’t expected it. Recovering, she tried to reassure the woman, with the hope she could tell her what had happened. A name at least. 

“Ma’am my name is Sandy, I can help you.” She said, but Sandy quickly realized she had lost her again when she was overcome with emotion. 

She looked behind her at the crowd, keeping her arms on the lady. “Have any of you called 911?” She asked, but was met with a bunch of clueless looks. 

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Here take this, call 911!” She shouted out frustrated, digging into her pocket with her hand. Though as she handed the cell over to one of the men she heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. 

Feeling the older lady struggling in her arms, Sandy diverted her focus back to her. “No, no you can’t go in there, it's not safe. The firefighters will be here soon okay.”

She looked back at Sandy and placed her hands to her chest as if she was cradling an infant. “My granddaughter, she just a baby.”

“A baby,” Sandy repeated. “You’re granddaughter Elena, is a baby? And she is in there?”

The woman tearfully nodded and Sandy released her from her grip, letting her stumble forward towards the building. Help was coming. They had time. She could wait. But it didn’t matter, the feeling of helpfulness spilled over like a failing dam and the rapids pushed her into the building. Alone and with no protection; she wanted to feel something again. She wanted to be able to do something. Help someone. She couldn’t just stand by while a baby was in there; all alone with their world burning around them and collapsing. She knew what that was like. 

The shop was more overcome with smoke than it looked from the outside and while Sandy was away from the main fire itself, the radiant heat from it was almost unbearable as she stepped inside. It was a slow but nagging searing sensation that wasn’t hot enough to set off one’s reflexes but it set off alarm bells inside Sandy’s head. She shouldn’t be in here. Taking a couple of steps back, Sandy coughed into her elbow and all but decided that she was going to exit the way she had just come in. She’d never done anything like this before and it was for good reason. It went against everything she had ever been taught. But before the decision was cemented in her mind, a plume of smoke cleared in front of her and she caught sight of a narrow staircase through the doorway and her mind was once again focused on her original goal. The baby girl. 

Stepping over some pieces of debris, she reached the stairs and raced up them, forgetting about the inferno downstairs that was creeping up behind her. The landing was small but considerably less polluted by smoke than the rest of the building and Sandy took a few moments to get her bearings. She listened out for the telltale noises of a baby crying but the roaring background noise around made it hard for her ears to distinguish anything of use. Ahead of her was an open door, revealing the bathroom, and next to it was another door that was slightly ajar which Sandy decided to try her luck with. 

Sandy’s shoulders dropped with relief as she walked into what looked like a nursery, the tension leaving her body. And she was even more thankful when she caught sight of the baby, alive and as safe as she could be under the circumstances. The little girl was sat up in her crib, playing with a toy and brown eyes wide with curiosity at her new visitor; appearing unbothered by the chaos she was quite literally residing on top of. 

“Hey, you must be Elena.” Sandy lent down over the side railing with a warm smile and ran a hand through the girl's dark brown curls, her hand then coming to rest on the side of her cheek. “My name is Sandy, why don’t we get you out of here.” She picked up the girl with a groan and propped the six-month-looking old on her hip without complaint. 

Elena studied the woman she was now in the arms of, bringing her little hand up to Sandy’s hair and examining it. She was content until she looked back at her crib and spotted her beloved toy giraffe left behind, and began to fuss. 

“Don’t worry, the giraffe can come with us.” Sandy bent down again to pick the toy up and brought it up to Elena’s face, shaking it playfully. “You have good taste Elena,  Safari  animals are my favorite too.” She said and Elena babbled back in agreement. 

Elena grabbed hold of her toy and Sandy picked up a small receiving blanket that was hung over the crib, placing it over the girl’s head to protect her from the smoke as they made their way back out. Eager to leave, Sandy departed the room and was a step down the staircase when she saw what was waiting for her. The fire that was once restricted to the front downstairs shop had spread to the back and now was encroaching the bottom of the stairs. Thick dark smoke collected there, glowing with an orange hue and blocking their exit. It was too dangerous, they’d have to wait for help. 

Sandy walked backward back onto the landing, her breathing quickened as she bounced the girl on hip up and down for comfort. Whatever burst of misguided adrenaline had brought her in here was quickly fading and being replaced with the gravity of the situation she had created for herself. There was no back up here. No one was looking out for her. She let out a few shaky breaths and a couple of short cries escaped with them. Elena, noticing Sandy’s change in demeanor, responded in sympathy, giving Sandy a few seconds of warning with a wobbling bottom lip before her face scrunched up and broke into tears. 

“Shhhh, I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” Sandy apologized, worried that her getting all upset would result in the girl, breathing in more of the smoke-filled air. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.” She tried to comfort her but found her words came out in the most unnatural rhythm possible, any maternal instinct in her body abandoning her when she needed it. 

There was an unsettling cracking sound followed by a loud bang near them and Sandy stared down nervously at the hardwood floor of the landing below her. Carefully retreating back into the nursery, Sandy placed Elena back into her crib and grabbed a blanket before running into the bathroom. She stuffed the blanket into the sink, turning the tap on and flooding the fabric with water as much as she could. By the time she was finished, the landing was filled with smoke and she blindly navigated her way back to Elena, shutting the door behind her. There was no way back now. 

With the wet blanket draped over her shoulder, Sandy ran over to the window on the far side of the room and tried to pry it open to no avail. It was locked. She cussed, not understanding the logic; how exactly was a six month old going to climb out of her crib and open a window? Hearing Elena begin to cough and fuss behind her as the once smoke free room began to fill, Sandy had to think quickly on her feet. Turning to her side she picked up a lamp that sat on a dresser and used it to break through the glass window. She broke the window some more with the lamp, making the hole bigger and catching her hand on one of the shards in the process. Hissing in pain she pressed her other hand tight to the cut as she watched a trail of blood fall down her wrist. 

Ignoring her bleeding hand, Sandy poked her head out as much as she could and looked below to an empty concrete yard. There was no one to be seen. She wasn’t sure how long she had been running back and forwards through this burning building but she expected to at least see some familiar faces by now. Where the hell was her team? Maybe they were preoccupied with the fire out front, but surely they would be focused on the two people inside? 

Did they even know that they were in here? Had Elena’s grandmother even told them?

Sandy felt as if the room was closing in on her. The fire inched closer, greedy as it consumed everything in its path. She could see the shadows of the flames, dancing into the room under the door. She returned her attention to Elena, who was now well and truly aware of the havoc she was in. 

“Shhh, you’re okay.” She tried to soothe the girl, gently rocking her in her arms as she cried. “We’re going to be okay.” However, there was only so much Sandy could do to distract from the roaring sound of the blaze. Without her usual protection, it was overwhelming, like a storm, her thoughts were hard to process as it whispered taunts to her. Everything was harder. She knew she had made a mistake. 

Feeling sick, Sandy lifted Elena up so her head was resting on her shoulder and quickly checked the tag of Elena’s sleepwear, making sure it wasn’t made of nylon or any other material that would melt onto the skin if it was to ignite. 

She had come in here to feel useful. To be able to do something for once. Help someone. But she was now back where she had been this entire week. Everything is collapsing around her. Trapped and alone without anyone that understood. Anyone that could help her. She had no control, instead now was at the mercy of fate as it subjected her to wait with the question that she may have made things worse. That she had failed another person again. 

Sandy sank down below the window, Elena close to her as she maneuvered the wet blanket over them both. The baby calmed under the blanket, in her own little world as she nestled against Sandy’s chest and the two girls sought comfort from each other. 

And as she waited, all Sandy could think about was if this was how Kerry felt that night. 

Terrified and alone. 

* * *

“Is Carlos here?”

Sandy rubbed her shoulder as she looked around the scene before her. Fire Trucks, ambulances, and police cars blocked off the road. A bunch of firefights packed up their equipment, exhausted, the burnout store lightly smoldering in the background behind them. Sandy pulled the thick blanket around her tighter as if it would make her smaller and turned to face Vincent, one of the guys from her unit. Her eyes struggled to meet his. 

He shook his head. “He wasn’t at the station when the call came through.”

Sandy nodded in confirmation and looked away again. She was glad that at least she would be able to delay word of her heroics getting back to her parents for a bit longer without her brother here. 

“What the hell were you doing?” 

Sandy shot her head back at Vincent, not appreciating his tone. “My job.” She answered simply. 

“To hell you were! You could have gotten yourself killed.” 

Sandy glared at him, letting the blanket around her fall to her feet as she stepped forward and pointed her hand back at the building behind her. 

“Hey, I saved that baby girl's life!” 

“No, we saved both your damn lives!” 

Sandy froze, as his words sliced through her. She knew he was right, but she wasn’t about to let him see that. Not now, not never, and most definitely not here. 

“I know you having a tough time Sandy, but that was goddamn stupid. You can’t be pulling stunts like that when you get back.” He said, his voice bordering between concern and anger. However, Sandy remained silent and he decided to let the conversation go for now. “Go with them.” He inclined his head towards the back of an ambulance parked nearby. 

“Is the baby...Elena...is she in there?” Sandy asked, playing with the gravel beneath her foot with her shoe as she tried to appear calm. And not the emotional hurricane she currently was, scared, exhausted, and needing to see the girl. 

“Yes, but you need to get yourself checked out.”

With that she was gone, running over to the ambulance and away from her responsibility. Climbing into the back she heard crying from Elena, the little girl struggling against the large mask being pushed into her face. Sandy took hold of one of her hands that were flailing about, her touch proving a distraction for Elena who turned her flushed face towards Sandy. 

“Can I hold her?” She asked, noticing that Elena’s grandmother didn’t appear to be riding with them to the hospital. 

The paramedic nodded, still struggling with the squirming baby in his arms. “Take a seat on the gurney.” He directed and lifted the girl into Sandy’s lap as she took a seat. Elena stilled in her hold, becoming more hospitable to the paramedic trying to treat her with oxygen. 

The trip to the hospital went by quickly, the bumpy ride lulling Sandy into a drained quasi-relaxed state as she leaned back against the side of the ambulance behind her, and before she knew it she was standing in County’s emergency department. Despite the fact that she and Elena were the only people rescued from the building, there was a lot of commotion around her. Paramedics, firefighters, and now medical staff all getting caught up on the event. 

“Sandy?” Susan called out as she walked over to the ambulance entrance. 

“I don’t think she breathed in much smoke, I kept us under a wet blanket.” Sandy walked quickly towards her, paramedics in toe, and angled the baby towards Susan in her arms. 

Susan nodded, placing a hand on Sandy’s arm. She gently pushed down the blanket Elena was wrapped up in to get a better look at the girl’s face and listened to the paramedics as they gave more information, ignoring the obvious question of why just Sandy was currently in the ED with a baby for now. “Okay, Pratt, take the baby to trauma 1.” She said, taking the baby from Sandy and handing it to Greg. “You come with me.” She ordered, already turning on her feet and walking to an exam room. 

Sandy shook her head. “I’m fine.” She replied, putting both hands up. 

Susan sighed, dragging on her feet as she came to collect her uncooperative patient. “I said come with me. I need to look at that hand.” She said, pointing to the blood-soaked bandage that Sandy was now inadvertently displaying to her. 

Sandy quickly dropped her hand behind her back, but it was too late and she groaned in frustration before following Susan. Fortunately, they had the exam room to themselves and Susan walked over to the cabinets, collecting a suture tray and cleaning supplies before indicating Sandy to sit. However, Sandy remained standing by the door, ready to bolt. 

“Will you just sit?” Susan let out a laugh, all but having to place two hands on Sandy’s shoulder and pushing her down to get her to sit. “I can’t have Kerry thinking I let you walk out of here injured.” She said as she sat down opposite, pulling her own stool in closer to the table.

_ Kerry.  _

For the first time since she had left the building, thoughts of Kerry came flooding back into her mind. And suddenly she was taken back to the start. She looked down at her bleeding hand. The  _ same _ hand. 

A wound reopened. Weeping. Needing closure. 

She closed her eyes, letting herself detach from everything. And fueled by exhaustion, she stepped out of herself. Everything was there again. She could see it all. The dark exam room, the illumination of the lamp, the magnetism. 

As she felt Susan’s hands inspect the wound she could almost imagine them as Kerry’s. Feel them again. Warm and soft even through the gloves, ever so unsteady with the warm chaos fluttering in their owner’s heart. 

_ “Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, I bunched it up.” _

The gentle flush of her cheeks as she spoke.

_ “Do you want to do something?” _

The nervous giggle. 

_ “Uh, I don't know. Lunch or a movie or...ice fishing.” _

She was so close, almost there. Just a little further, and they could close the gap. 

“Ouch!” Sandy hissed as she was brought back into reality with Susan prodding into a particularly sore area. 

“Sorry,” Susan said, a sympathetic look on her face as she reached over for the suture tray. “It doesn’t look too deep. A few stitches and you should be all good.” 

Susan began, carefully focusing on every stitch as the two remained quiet. She occasionally looked up at Sandy’s face and tried to read her. See if she really was okay, beyond a cut hand. “What happened out there?” She eventually asked. 

“I was just heading out for a bit and then...I couldn’t just watch -” She answered, her voice fading as she lost her train of thought. She opened her mouth again, but then closed it, too tired to explain. 

Still, Susan persisted, subtly. “Your team looked pretty worked up about it.” 

“They are just concerned.”

“Should they be?” Susan raised an eyebrow, Sandy had always struck her as a by the book sort of person. “Concerned about you?” She added, her voice gentle. 

“It’s been a long week.” 

Susan nodded in understanding, letting Sandy free. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what this week had been like for Sandy. Some questionable decision making probably wasn’t such an unusual response. 

While there hadn’t been any specific bad news, as the days crept along a solemn veil had fallen over the ER. It was awkward to navigate, no one quite knew what to feel or how to react. Reflective of the chief of emergencies polarising status amongst her staff. To some she was nothing more than a boss, generally respected and tolerated. To others, she was more, a mentor, a friend. 

Even for Susan, it was complicated. 

No one there was  _ close _ to Kerry. And from what Susan had seen, Kerry didn’t appear to have that many people in her life and by extension, Sandy didn’t either right now. Hence, she and Abby had felt a certain responsibility to help out as much as they could. 

Apart from what she and Abby managed to gather when they went upstairs and visited, Susan wasn’t aware of the details when it came to Kerry’s condition. And recently, such visits had been rare as Susan found herself taking on extra shifts and responsibilities in the department. To say she had been busy was an understatement. It was her way of looking after Kerry. Looking after her ER, keeping it afloat. However, if she was honest with herself, at times, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable seeing Kerry like she was. Vulnerable. It was as if she was intruding in a space  she hadn’t been invited into. 

Unlike Abby, Susan and Kerry shared a history. One that had, since her return, mostly been brushed under the carpet without apology. It bubbled under the surface, the rising tension between them during a disagreement, never truly disappearing. They had matured since their first meeting, perhaps Susan more than Kerry, and so had their relationship. There were definitely moments, where Susan thought she should clear the air once and for all. Stop ignoring it and make amends, but she’d get stuck on the same hesitation. That Kerry herself never seemed interested in making the same effort. She was so guarded all the time that it drove Susan mad, never quite knowing where she stood. One minute they’d be sharing a genuine moment and the next Susan would be wondering if she would end up on the other end of one of Kerry's power plays. 

However, Susan could never quite let Kerry go and Kerry never quite stopped making some type of effort to remain friends. Something kept them together, otherwise, Susan would have joined every other staff member with who Kerry barely shared a personal moment with. It was clear that Kerry was far more interested in Susan’s life than she would have ever been for someone she considered as just a casual work friend. And since Mark had passed, they’d gotten to know Sandy; Kerry slowly allowing them a window into her life. More than ever they seemed perfectly poised to move on. 

And they did (mostly) get along. Cared for each other, as friends did. But they weren't close. She and Abby had gotten close but not Kerry. In fact, Susan generally didn’t find it hard to make close friends. But Kerry was different. Not the type of person you could get close to. Never close. But maybe it was because it was still there. History tainting the present. Looming in the background. There was always a degree of awkwardness in their relationship. It was holding them back and neither seemed able to take the first step. 

And now, Susan wondered if she should have just swallowed her pride. That maybe Kerry had been trying and she had just been too stubborn to see it. 

“Dr Lewis, we need you in exam 3.”

Susan turned her head towards the doorway, through which Lily was sticking her head through. “I’ll be there in a minute” she replied, refocusing on the task in front of her and trying off the last stitch. After she dressed and bandaged her hand, Susan stood up. “I’ll be right back with your discharge papers. Try not to go running off anywhere.” She joked. 

Sandy gave a hint of a smile as she picked at her soot-covered clothes. They’d never let her up in the ICU looking like this she thought. Sighing, her mind wandered through all the things she was supposed to get done this morning and Sandy struggled to recall the last day when things followed a fairly normal routine. 

Hearing Susan finish cleaning up, she watched as she walked over to the door, noticing a young woman peering through on the other side. As Susan rushed out to her next patient, the woman entered the exam room, timidly clutching at her elbow. Sandy could have sworn she had seen her before. However, her blue and blonde hair wasn’t exactly distinguishing features. 

“Do you need something?” Sandy asked, confused about her new company. 

The woman shook her head quickly. “No, umm...the doctor...they told me to wait in here.”

“Oh sorry.” Sandy shot up from the stool, nearly knocking her head on the lamp in the process. “Here” She directed to the now free spot, noticing a small cut on the woman's temple. 

“No...it’s ok...I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She apologized, stepping forward. “Are you okay?”

Sandy paused, momentarily taken back by now strangers asking her intrusive questions. “It’s fine. I’ve got to go and get cleaned up anyway.” She offered, pushing past her and leaving the exam room. However, the moment she walked into the hallway she felt she was about to be accosted by yet another person as she saw Abby walking towards her. Walking fast. Too fast. With urgency. 

_ Surely not. Not now. Not after this morning.  _

“Sandy! You're here, good..they’ve been trying to get in touch with you. It’s good news, they just called down here, she is more alert, there talking about extubating her.”

* * *

  
  
“I wasn’t here.” She whispered, the strain evident in her voice. “Again, I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now.” Abby stepped up behind her, placing a hand on the scrub top that Sandy had changed into before arriving. “That’s all that matters.”

_ Was it? _

Sandy inched closer to Kerry’s hospital bed, but there was a sea of nurses, therapists, doctors, and equipment between them. Forming a barrier and keeping her away. It intimidated her. Her heart dropped the moment Abby had told her. And she had raced up here to find them already preparing. She hadn't even gotten a chance to take anything in. See Kerry. Be with her. Touch her. All these strangers had already gotten their first. And now she was frozen. Everyone around her was well-rehearsed, each with their own role. They all knew what to do. Everyone apart from Sandy. 

Abby’s arm moved from Sandy’s shoulder to her back, giving her the gentle push that she needed. Without thinking she took several steps forward, arriving at the foot of the bed. There was a flurry of activity in front of her and the two respiratory therapists that appeared to be working most with Kerry didn’t appear to take notice of Sandy. So she stayed, moving around to the left side slightly without getting in the way. As she got closer, she grew more comfortable, able to block them out and focus. 

Kerry had been propped up higher in her bed, a sheet laid across her chest as they suctioned her mouth. She looked drowsy, Sandy thought, her eyes barely open as people moved around and prodded her. There were many voices, asking her to remain calm and still. Instructing her to take deep breaths as they got ready to remove the tube. But her responses were delayed, any directions needing to be repeated a few times before they got any response. But she was responding. At some level, she must be understanding. 

Understanding or not, Sandy could see her grow tired and distressed. She was barely able to raise her left arm of the mattress before it fell onto the bed again as she struggled to move. So Sandy stepped closer again. Hoping that she would step into her eyeshot. That Kerry would see her. Recognize her. 

Sandy locked eyes with one of the respiratory therapists, who nodded with a smile, indicating that she could come and sit closer for a bit as they took a short break. Quickly she pulled herself in close, waiting for it. Waiting for her to see her. But her eyes were glossed over Sandy wasn't sure she could see it. Wasn't sure if she was just feeling it because she so badly wanted to. She placed her hand next to Kerry’s, her thumb gently stroking over it a few times. 

Then she felt it. 

The fingers brushing against hers. The hand reaching out onto hers. The hand grabbing hold of hers. The tiny squeeze. 

She was there. 

She wanted to say something. Something meaningful. Something that would help. But she was overwhelmed and said the only thing she knew. 

“I missed you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me to this point. I’ve been a little nervous and I hope It doesn’t feel like I’ve dragged the whole ‘Sandy by Kerry’s bedside’ out for too long. By the very nature of the plot, I couldn’t exactly do much else but we did have quite a few chapters of it. However, I feel like it was important for the story (esp Sandy as a character). 
> 
> The focus will naturally shift to Kerry but also their relationship, which always was going to be a big part of this story.
> 
> (And my usual ‘I am not a doctor disclaimer. I researched but the only thing I had a good level of knowledge about in these chapters were hospital-acquired infections lol).
> 
> Also, this was a long one to edit, so I apologise if I missed something. 
> 
> Thanks for reading & as usual I would love to hear any thoughts.


	8. The Uncertainty Principle

Treading water. That was what it felt like Kerry was doing. Constantly treading to keep her head above the water. Keeping herself afloat in the sea of uncertainty she was entangled in. To avoid succumbing to the depths below once again. But it was getting tiring now, she had been at it for what felt like days. And when you tread water, you make no real progress. Rather remain in the same spot. Up and down. Up and down. Over and over again. But not forwards or backward. Just stuck. 

And there was beginning to be less of the up and more of the down as time moved along. She felt herself being pulled deeper, the water heavy, suffocating her with its tightness. Consciousness no longer came to her in rhythmic waves, rather she was plunged in and out of it like a rag doll on wash day, making it all the more disorientating. But the flashes were clearer now. Closer. Yet, there was an element of surrealism to them. But her brain was too exhausted, too scrambled to even try and make sense of what she was experiencing. 

She was drowning. And she wasn’t even sure what in anymore. Reality or her dreams. 

Barely able to distinguish between the two, they both felt as if they were against her. 

Maybe all this energy wasn’t worth it. It felt as if she had been here for so long. It was tempting to stop fighting. She let herself relax and sink into the unknown. And she waited. Waited for something. Anything. But she didn’t sink into nothingness. Rather she found a clarity. A sandbank in the ocean. Something solid and stable to stand on. A lifeline. She could breathe again. 

“We’re sitting you up a bit now, Dr. Weaver. We are just going to suction out your tube, make sure your lungs are clear. Cough if you need to, ok. Focus on those deep breaths.”

The voice was right next to her. She could feel them. Someone was with her, she didn’t know where she was, but someone was there. She wasn’t alone. And words. The words made more sense now. Not together though. No, the sentences were jumbled to Kerry. Painful to pull apart. But the words alone? They had some meaning. 

Cough and breathe. She knew what that meant. She could do that. 

Or at least she thought she could. That was until she tried to execute those actions and became vaguely aware of the disconnect between her brain and body. She wasn’t in control and it petrified her. Suddenly becoming aware of this, Kerry was confronted with an array of alarming sensations. Everything felt wrong. Her instincts and reflexes screaming at her to get out of whatever she had gotten herself into. 

The tube moved uncomfortably in her throat as they suctioned and she did eventually find herself coughing, though involuntarily as her chest spasmed. She needed to tell someone. That she didn’t like it. That she wanted it to stop. All of it. But she was unable to talk. She tried to breathe, but even that wasn’t easy. Every time she felt ready to take another breath, her body simply wouldn’t, as if it wasn’t ready yet. Or rather the ventilator wasn’t ready. Instead, she’d have to wait a further few agonizing seconds before it complied. 

Uncomfortable was an understatement and Kerry pried her eyes open sluggishly, mostly in response to the constant stimuli around her. But she was met with harsh white lights and immediately retreated back into the darkness. That wasn’t a place where she wanted to be. She felt something around her mouth. Constricting her from breathing, talking, moving freely. She wanted it gone and moved to pull whatever it was off her face. In her distorted mind, she was successful, her arms reaching up to her face and freeing herself; she could go now. But in reality, apart from moving her shoulders as she struggled, Kerry remained unmoving, her arms never making it off the bed. 

“Try and stay still, Kerry. We are going to extubate you. Once we get that tube out, you will be a lot more comfortable.”

Still. Kerry decided she could be still. Like there were snakes all around her, she would remain still as possible. Just like her father had taught her as a child. Then once all the voices had slithered away she could leave. Without them interfering and getting in her way. She needed to get out of here after all. She had places to be. Work kept coming to mind. She wasn’t quite sure what her work was, but she needed to be there and not here. 

Here was not good. 

The stillness was easy to give into, her body craving sleep over anymore commotion. However, the voices persisted, moving around her and hissing out noise. In her drowsy state it all started to mush together, creating a mildly panicked state for Kerry to lie in as she waited. She would occasionally open her eyes, to check if they had gone. And then she felt it. She didn’t need to open her eyes. Her presence was enough. 

Sandy. 

She’d forgotten about Sandy. And now she was here. She hoped Sandy would forgive her. They would have to leave together, Kerry thought. The other voices quietened and stopped poking and prodding her as they withdrew away from the bed. And she felt Sandy come closer. She opened her eyes once more, but the light again made it hard for her to see anything. But it didn’t matter, she knew it was her. Kerry’s senses were heightened, but it wasn’t overwhelming like before. They simply homed onto her. Onto Sandy and nothing else. Her breathing and her touch. She was stroking her hand. 

It was familiar. Kerry had slowly been gaining something that resembled a memory these past few days and the feeling of having someone close like this lingered in her mind. It was recent as well and she felt as if she had been in this position before. But when she had reached out to that person, brushed her fingers against them, it had not been Sandy. It wasn’t that they hadn’t brought her comfort, she liked having them there, but it was someone else, who Kerry couldn’t quite identify. 

She wanted to be sure this time. 

She felt as if she had been moving her hand for hours before she made contact with another person. Their soft skin was the first physical connection Kerry had felt in a long while. Tethering her to the now. The whole process was tiring, almost painful as it took all her willpower, but she did it. She held onto the hand and squeezed with everything she had. 

“I missed you so much.”

It was Sandy. 

Kerry immediately sank back into the mattress, the tense posture her upper body had taken on unwinding as she felt safe enough to give in to the exhaustion threatening to overcome her. And while Sandy didn’t speak again, her throat impossibly tight with emotion, the two women were content. Almost peaceful for those few minutes as they sat together, ignorant of the room around them, giving each other exactly what they needed. 

With a calmer Kerry, the respiratory therapists returned to Kerry’s side, eager to get on with the extubation. Sandy was once again pushed to the side and she reluctantly separated herself from Kerry. She stepped backward, coming to stand beside Abby who was still hanging around, unsure if she should leave or stay. Though with the way Sandy navigated herself towards her when not with Kerry, she decided she should stay for a bit, keeping a low profile in the background. 

“Okay Kerry we are going to get that tube out now,” Shana said, switching the alarms off on the ventilator and leaning in closer to her. 

But Kerry began to flail again, no longer having Sandy by her side. No longer connected to this time and place. Memories of her dreams returned. Sandy gone. Out of reach. _Missing_ . Just like she had said before. _Missing_. Words had meanings. And missing wasn’t good. 

Everything became scrambled again. Her panic, the other voices, the people around her she could see. Her eyes had adapted to the bright light now, but everything around her was ill-defined. Mostly nameless moving shadows and objects. She was confused as she felt the apparatus around her mouth again as Shana gently removed it. The very thing she could have sworn she had pulled off herself moments previously. She hoped if she stayed still enough, they would leave her again as they had before. 

“When I tell you to, I want you to take some deep breaths in okay?” Shana instructed, connecting the syringe to the pilot balloon. A nurse on the other side stood ready with the suction. “And..deep breath in for me now…” She pulled the syringe plunger outwards and then the ET tube quickly, keeping it stable as she could. “Good...there you go.” 

It was an odd sensation as the tube was pulled up and out through her throat. Her neck flexed upwards slightly as she gagged, creating such a swarm of pain in her head that she felt she was going to be sick even when she was free of the obstruction. Quickly another tube was being forced into her mouth as soon as the other had left. 

“Give me a strong cough if you can.” The nurse continued to suction out her mouth as Shana got the nasal cannula prepared. Kerry coughed and spluttered, her eyes closed tightly shut with the discomfort each movement brought. ‘Nearly done now. You can relax soon.”

Shana placed the nasal cannula around Kerry’s face, taking a moment to listen for stridor before picking up her stethoscope. Kerry protested at yet another thing being pushed onto her, having only just been released from her previous constriction. She tried to move her arms up, so she could pull the cannula off her face and shoo away the people around her. But her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Frustration turned into distress as she studied her left arm, watching it as she willed it to rise more than an inch of the mattress. But it wouldn’t work. They felt like lead weights. The right was considerably heavier than the left. 

“How does that feel now? Can you say your name?” Shana asked and Kerry drew her eyes away from her hand and towards her face. 

She was slowly becoming aware of the environment around her. She could make out a number of people standing in front of her. All watching. She didn’t need all this. She wanted to be left alone. But as that didn’t appear likely, Kerry was determined to leave herself. Even if she didn’t even know where she was exactly leaving. 

“Kerry? Can you say something, we need to know if your vocal cords are working okay.” Shana prompted again, but Kerry tried to ignore her. And all the noise around her. The sounds, the smell, the feel of where she was. It was all stuff she knew. She could almost place it. But it wasn’t comforting in any way. 

Her attention was diverted as Sandy returned to her besides, taking a seat and leaning in close to her. Sandy gently inched herself in as much as she could, so their bodies were almost touching as she brushed away a stray lock of hair that had stuck to her wet forehead. The fact that she was now awake and yet physically they were still so separated driving her insane. 

The relief Kerry felt from being with her was instantaneous and the panic she was feeling moments before almost forgotten. “San...Sandy,” She managed to mumble out, her voice horse and raw, making Sandy visibly wince as she watched her wife put all her strength into such a simple action. However, Kerry was just grateful that her arms still moved in the horizontal direction as her hand met Sandy’s. 

Sandy couldn’t hold off a smile for long and tears prickled in her eyes as she began to speak. “Hey, you...it’s so good to see you again.” Kerry listened to her voice, taking confront in her tones and watching the way a couple of her fallen chestnut curls bounced around in the air as she wiped her eyes and sniffled. Sandy was the only thing that was making any sense. 

The sounds of footsteps approaching interrupted their moment, the intensive care physician stood next to her with a furrowed brow. “You suffered a serious head injury, Dr. Weaver. Do you remember what happened?” He asked. 

Kerry’s eyes widened, looking up to Sandy who responded with a glum smile that brought out the dark circles under her eyes. She rubbed her arm in reassurance. 

“Do you know where you are?” 

Kerry stiffened in the bed, instinctively reaching to pull the various cords and lines she was entangled in, having more success with moving her arm in the way she wanted to this time but only to be stopped by the doctor. “I need...I need to go...” She cried out, her voice distant yet defiant. Urgent. She turned her head to the side on the pillow, an all-consuming pain erupted within and she immediately regretted the action. Agitated and confused, she moved her head back, in an attempt to undo her previous mistake but only intensified the feeling. “Stop..it hurts.” 

Sandy swallowed hard, her heart racing as Kerry became more and more distressed in front of her. She had seen Kerry in pain before. Horrible pain. But not like this. It was never this confronting. “Kerry, you’re okay. You’re safe.” Noticing her hand slightly trembling on her wife’s arm, she snatched it back with her other and held it against her stomach. “Ker- I’m...I’m sorry,” She panicked, looking to the intensive care doctor for help. 

“Kerry, you’re in hospital, at County.” The doctor explained, keeping an eye on the monitors around her, but he could tell she was being to waver. “You’ve been unconscious for a little while, so everything is probably a little confusing now. Try not to talk too much okay.”

“No..no, no, no...” Her face was still contorted, eyes shut and tears coursing down her cheeks. “Sandy...” 

“Kerry, I’m here.” Sandy leaned in over her, her voice soft but direct. “Look at me.” She ordered, with a firm grip on her hand and upper arm. Kerry opened her eyes, dazed but calmer. “There, you see, everything is okay.” 

Kerry remained quiet, having tired herself out. She nodded with Sandy before speaking. “I need to go.” Her voice was no longer panicked, now small and shrill as she repeated the only sentence in her mind. “We need to go.” 

Sandy sighed, releasing she wasn’t understanding. That she wasn’t with them just yet. “I know, I know.” She comforted, as she watched Kerry fade, hoping that the rest would do her some good. 

* * *

“How are we all?”

The nurse looked over her shoulder as she was re-adjusting the rate on one of the IVs. “This one has been sleeping like a baby.” She inclined her head towards Sandy, who was still sat on the chair beside Kerry’s hospital bed. Her head hanging forward in what looked like a rather uncomfortable sleeping position. The events of the day had finally caught up with her and once Kerry had drifted off she had soon followed. 

“Bit late for you to be hanging around these parts, Dr. James?” The nurse smiled, passing over Kerry’s chart and notes preemptively to the doctor. 

“You know me, no rest for the wicked.” He replied, taking the papers from her and skimming through them. 

Sandy stirred with the conversation occurring near her and lifted her head. She rubbed her neck, stretching it out before remembering where she was. “Did something happen?” She said, now wide awake and checking on Kerry. 

“No, she has calmed quite a bit since she first awoke.” The nurse said, giving a reassuring smile to Sandy before returning her focus to James. “She still appears confused though. Breathing has been good, as were the last round of obs” She pointed to a section of the chart in the doctor’s hands. 

He nodded, eyes looking over the page one last time before placing the chart down and coming to stand opposite Sandy at his patients beside. “Kerry, can you wake up for me?”

“Mhmm-” Kerry tried to block out the noise around her, as she had been doing for the last few minutes since they had arrived. She was no longer as alarmed as she had been hours before, waking up in a strange place with no recollection of how she had got there. In fact, she barely remembered waking up at all and had been ebbing in and out of sleep, preoccupied with people bothering her constantly. 

“Do you remember where you are Kerry?”

She opened her eyes at his question. She knew the answer and she was determined to prove it to him. However, the word wouldn’t come to her. It was on the tip of her tongue. Annoyed, her face scrunched up and she breathed out heavily with a wince. “My head”

“Are you still in pain, Dr. Weaver?” The nurse asked. 

“Doctor…” She repeated, looking over to the man beside her. Eyes narrowed. “You’re a doctor,” Kerry announced, a moment later, confident in her judgment. 

“Yes. A neurosurgeon. Do you remember now?” 

Kerry brushed off his question, her attention already on her wife. “Sandy, you’re...wearing scrubs.” She said, brushing her fingers angst the blue fabric of Sandy’s top. “You’re not a not doctor.” 

Sandy smiled, gently pulling her hand off her top and resting it back down on the mattress. She didn’t know how to reply, struggling to navigate Kerry’s state on top of her own concerns and feelings. But she savored the evidence that Kerry did appear to have some understanding of reality. That she knew who she was. Remembered her. 

“You’re in the hospital, Kerry. As a patient.” James continued. “I performed surgery on you a week ago.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kerry said, attempting to sit up. Despite the increasing evidence around her, demonstrating that she was indeed in hospital and a patient herself, she wasn’t convinced. Some part of her knew that she was in a hospital bed, hooked up to lines and monitors, that there were doctors and nurses around but her brain simply ignored it if it didn’t fit with the narrative. In her mind, she wasn’t confused, it was everyone around her that were confused. “I should go. Sandy-” She fell back against the pillow, noticing that she not only had an aching head but that her whole chest felt like one large radiating bruise. 

Sandy reached out to settle her, which was easy. Kerry’s movements were slow and delayed. Her body worn out and tired, she put up little fight against Sandy’s tender arms. “Kerry, I know this seems...scary...or weird now, but just listen to what they tell you okay. They are just trying to help you..help us.” Sandy turned her head towards James, her tone hushed. “Is this normal? How long is she going to be like this? Confused?” 

“It could be the injury to the brain itself but also the combination of the prolonged period of unconsciousness and the drugs. She’s been on quite high doses of steroids the past week, to help with the swelling on the brain. They are known to cause these sorts of symptoms, even hallucinations. It can be quite confronting for the patients.” 

“What are you talking about? What steroids?” Kerry piped in, having tuned in to the conversation occurring over her bed. 

“Let’s not worry about that now. I just want to go through a few quick questions and activities with you if that’s okay?” He asked. Kerry pressed her lips together and James took her lack of comment as a positive sign.

“I am going to say three words and I would like you to repeat them for me. Do you understand?” Kerry replied with a slight nod and he continued. “House. Apple. Elephant.”

Kerry opened her mouth, but froze, suddenly forgetting what she had been asked to do. Time seemed to slow down as saw three pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for her to do something. Closing her eyes she simply said out loud the words floating around in her mind. 

“House...apple....” Kerry frowned, she knew there was something else, but the word escaped her. 

“Good job, two out of three.”

Sandy smiled and Kerry was at a loss as to what she had done that people seemed so pleased about. Feeling like a child who had just been rewarded for something trivial, Kerry was now more convinced that everyone around her had gone slightly mad. But like most things, she was too tired to put any thought to it all. 

James leaned over, taking both of Kerry’s hands in his. “Now I want you to squeeze both my hands, as hard as you can. It may be a little tricky with your right hand which is in the cast, but if you can just try and move your thumb and pointer finger for me.” Kerry obliged, after taking a moment to look at her right arm, having only just realized it was indeed in a cast. Sandy looked on, trying to gauge any reaction in the Doctor's face. “Good, now I want you to try and lift your left arm for me. As high as you can.” 

Kerry starting lifting her arm from the shoulder, but deciding that was too hard she settled to doing it just from her elbow. But even that was draining and she gave up before reaching a 90-degree angle, Sandy catching it on the way down and returning it to its spot gently. 

“What about your right arm, can you try and lift that?” James asked, his voice sounding slightly dubious. He tapped on her cast, reminding her as to which arm he wanted her to move. 

“Too heavy.” She groaned, flopping her head towards Sandy who sported a picture of worry on her face. With her chin tucked down to her chest, Kerry closed her eyes. 

“Okay, hold on Kerry just a couple more things.” He moved down towards the end of the bed, pulling the blanket up to reveal her feet. “Push against my hands as hard as you can.” He said, a serious look dawning on his face as she pushed. And Sandy stretched her neck up to get a better look at what was going on. 

“Now, lift your right leg up, don’t let me push it down.”

Kerry shook her head, the pounding within was intensifying and she could barely follow along to his sentences anymore. “I can’t.” Every part of her felt dead and heavy, all she wanted to do was stay still. Motionless. Even swallowing was too tiring at this point. 

“How about if you try your left leg.”

“I don’t want to do this.” She cried, her voice surprising loud for how drowsy she was becoming. Sandy prepared herself, ready to fight depending on the next words that came out of the neurosurgeon’s mouth. 

“Okay, we’ll stop now. You did really well, Kerry.” James reorganized the blanket, trying to ignore the hot glare from Sandy. He joined Sandy on the other side of the bed and began to explain. “I'll let you rest now. But as you have probably noticed, there does seem to be some significant muscle weakness on the right side of your body, Kerry. We will pick this up again tomorrow and probably be able to get a clearer picture.” He nodded sympathetically. 

Kerry remained quiet, slowly comprehending what she was been told. She understood what he was saying. What it meant but somehow it didn’t feel as if it was of any importance to her. Yet the top of her nose began to sting and there was a prickling sensation in her eyes. Some part of her brain was registering his words. Coding the emotional response. A sadness. She just couldn’t connect it all. 

James excused himself and Sandy was torn. Watching the tears fill in Kerry’s eyes, she didn’t exactly want to leave her but she also didn’t want to let James go freely. Not before she had a chance to ask any questions. As long as Kerry wasn’t able to advocate for herself, she was going to squeeze every bit of information out of them she could. She leaped up from her seat, catching up with him just far enough away that they would be out of Kerry’s earshot. 

“Wait, what was that all about? What are you saying?”

“When I examined Kerry, I observed that she had weakness in the right side of her body. This corresponds with the location of her brain injury. She struggled to lift her right arm up-”

“She’s got a cast on!” Sandy exclaimed in a hushed voice, cutting him off. 

“I saw the same thing when I examined her legs, she has far less strength in her right side.”

“You sure? That it can't be something else? ” She said, trying to convince herself more than the doctor in front of her. “Not her brain...not something permanent.” 

“Sandy, no one is saying this is permanent. Not yet. There was significant swelling and bruising caused by the injury. It was likely that there would be some residual effects. What they would be however was unknown.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Before?”

“There wasn’t anything to say. The scans, they don’t tell us these things. Even now, it’s too early to tell. We still need to give her a chance to wake up properly.”

Sandy bit down on her bottom lip and looked back at Kerry, who appeared to have fallen back to sleep. “I thought all this waiting would be over now. “

“Look, the OT team or someone from physio will likely come by tomorrow. They will want to start working with Kerry, which I am happy for them to do so. Any cognitive issues that may arise, they can help too. The next few weeks? Bar any complications, it’s all about getting her strong and independent enough so we can get her back home.”

* * *

“You can’t be serious!?”

“Early mobilization is vital for physical and mental recovery. Our plan for today is to get Kerry sitting up with her legs over the bed and maybe into that chair over there. I assure you, we won’t be doing anything she can’t handle.” The occupational therapist explained to Sandy and Kerry, signaling to a blue chair positioned a few feet from the hospital bed. 

Sandy sighed, lips pressed together as she watched the woman beginning to get ready for the session, two colleagues beside her. Kerry had a relatively peaceful night, the pain medication doing most of the work. She had awoken periodically, confused and disorientated, but had been easy to reassure and calm without too much fuss. But this? This it was too much, Sandy thought.

“She has problems with her hip normally let alone after...after...” Sandy paused. _After the attack._ Kerry didn’t even know what had happened to her. It felt wrong; like they were all keeping something from her. Something so awful. Personal. They all knew but she didn’t. Sandy knew Kerry would hate that. But Kerry still wasn’t quite understanding that she was in a hospital let alone how she had gotten there. “You expect her to be able to walk?”

The therapist stopped what she was doing completely and stood up. “I understand, but the best thing is to get them up and moving as soon as possible. You can help as well, it’s good to have a family member…” Her eyes moved up and down Sandy as if her relation to Kerry was going to be spelled out on her clothing somewhere. 

“Wife. I’m her wife.” 

The woman smiled. “Then it would be really good if you could be involved during the session. It will help Kerry a lot.”

Sandy nodded in agreement. Though she still felt uneasy. Only a day ago Kerry was all but dead to world and now everything seemed to be moving fast. And she didn’t know what do to or what to think. Abby or Susan wasn't around. She could usually ask them. Get their opinion, which usually helped her anxiety. And Kerry, she would have something to say about this, she always did, wanting to do things her way; only Sandy didn’t know what that would be. Likely, if Kerry was truly herself they would have been discharged and out of here 12 hours ago. She briefly considered trying to find Elizabeth, she needed some reassurance. But she just had to trust those around her. Even if she found it hard. 

Meanwhile, Kerry was also having to do some trust of her own. Though she was having a much easier time of it. Sandy was easy to trust. Her mind was still cloudy, not much penetrated through the thick fog she was living under. But Sandy did, more than others. She was her guide. 

She’d managed to pull apart a few important words from the conversation occurring. Sitting up. Standing. Chair. The rest of those sentences was just filler to Kerry and she put the words back into a context to which made sense to her. She felt as if she had no energy at all, but still, something within her wanted to move. Wanted to do this. And with Sandy, she could. 

So when she felt a pair of foreign hands on each of her shoulders, Kerry didn’t flinch. Instead, she let them guide her up slowly, listened as they coached her along with supportive words. Despite the fact that two women were all but holding her up in a sitting position, her core muscles painfully ached and contracted. Her ribs protested, sharp pains searing through her chest. Kerry’s world descended into a spinning nightmare. She forced her eyes shut to get some relief. But even in the darkness she still felt like she was falling. _Falling_. She’d felt that before. Falling onto the cold and wet ground below. 

Instinctively she doubled over, a protective mechanism, but that only brought more discomfort and left her arm shot out with more strength than ever before. Searching. Sandy found her, grabbing hold of her. 

“Maybe we should slow down,” Sandy said, wanting to get closer to Kerry but blocked by the therapist in front of her. 

The therapist moved in front of Kerry so she could see her face, still keeping a supportive hold on her. “You’re doing really well Kerry. We are now going to move your legs over the side, so you are sitting towards me.” She said, making sure all the lines and wires that Kerry was attached to were ready also for the change of position. 

Kerry gave it her all, trying to shuffle her legs over the edge but again the therapist seemed to do most of the work. She hadn’t noticed how stiff her hip had been until she had started to sit up and as her legs dangled over the side, that stiffness shifted into a grating agony. In an attempt to relieve the pressure on her left side, she tried to shift more onto her right as she sat without much success. It was becoming hard to distinguish just where all the different aches and pains were coming from, everything blurring together with the occasional sharp pain that would leave her unable to breathe. 

“Sandy come up and sit behind Kerry. Support her.” The therapist directed. 

Sandy climbed onto the bed as carefully as she could. Not wanting to cause any abrupt movements. Awkwardly, she managed to position herself behind Kerry. One arm came to rest around onto her side near her stomach and the other took hold of her hand from behind. Kerry immediately grabbed onto it hard and allowed herself to soften in Sandy’s hold. 

“Am I hurting you?” Sandy whispered into her ear, her head slightly resting on Kerry’s shoulder as she leaned in closer. “Tell me if you want to stop.” Her voice was wobbly, but the warmth it conveyed provided an immense amount of comfort to Kerry and she responded with an indiscernible sound as she nodded. 

“Kerry, we are going to stand you up now. We are here to move with you, go at your pace.”

She kept her eyes closed. Her vision was littered with bright white spots. And she focused on the feel of Sandy behind as she felt herself moving again. But it was too much and the moment her feet touched the ground she collapsed back down again with a piercing cry. The pressure was too much, she couldn’t hold herself up even with the extra help. Nothing in her body felt solid. Felt connected. Her breathes quickened as she leaned back into Sandy, against her chest, as the room swayed around her. 

“Okay, okay Kerry. We are stopping. Try and relax. You’re okay.” 

But stopping didn’t help. Her face took on an ashen and wet tone and the next thing she knew she was vomiting into an emesis basin. Sandy spoke to her softly, comforting her with every painful spasm. But there were too many people crowded around her, there was nowhere to get air. She needed space. 

And the pain. Why was she in so much pain? Her head. Something about her head, she knew that. But pain, it always had a cause. A mechanism. A story. Without that, Kerry didn’t know how to fix it. And she needed to do something. She had always been good at mentally shutting down pain, but nothing could help this. 

_What had happened? What wasn’t her brain telling her?_

“I told you this was too much!” Sandy raised her voice, watching Kerry be sick again. 

It was a strange realization that then hit Kerry as the waves of pain started to subside. It wasn’t one of clarity. More was a feeling. Something akin to embarrassment. That this was the state she was in. That this was her. The body that felt so distant and disconnected was actually hers. Connected to her thoughts. Her insecurities. And had failed her so publicly. Failing her in front of all these people. And they had watched it. 

* * *

  
  
“Sandy…” Kerry mumbled, almost inaudibly. 

Sandy closed the book she was reading, placing it on her lap. She was curled up on her recliner chair and make-shift bed. Kerry was restless in front of her, dozing in and out of sleep in the hospital bed. Exhausted and worn out from her session earlier in the day. The floor was as quiet as it got up here, the various lamps and other light sources proving just enough light for Sandy to make out the words in the dark. It was something the nurses had mentioned a little while ago, that reading something familiar out loud or speaking about memories might help Kerry. 

And that’s how the copy of _Mansfield Park_ Sandy held in her lap had made it into the ICU. Sandy had read it to her a few times during the past week. Picking up from where Kerry’s bookmark lay with the current re-read she had started only days prior to that night. She’d been reading it to her tonight, only stopping when she noticed her falling asleep, not wanting to disturb her. But she had kept reading it herself, it wasn’t her cup of tea, but it helped her feel closer to Kerry. Doing something she enjoyed. It reminded her of the evenings they would spend together, causal evenings after long shifts for them both. Kerry reading on the couch while she watched TV. 

“You okay?” Sandy asked quietly, not wanting to wake her up completely. 

Kerry shuffled around in her pillow, moving her head towards Sandy’s voice but her eyes remained closed. “I don’t think I am going to make it home tonight...we should have a late supper instead. I’m sorry.”

Sandy frowned. If she wasn’t so concerned about her, she would have found the statement sweet. Such calls from the hospital used to frustrate her, but now she longed for such normal conversations. And it was one of the more logical things Kerry had said since she had woken up. Apart from the fact she was obviously a touch confused. She debated if she should wake her or wait to see if she would quiet down, but when a couple of pained whimpers escaped Kerry’s lips her decision was made for her. 

Sandy stood up, placing the book on the chair and coming to stand beside her. “Kerry, open your eyes. I’m here, in the hospital, with you.” She said, softly rubbing her upper arm. 

Kerry’s eyes fluttered open, the look of panic that was seated in them left after a couple of moments as she got her bearings. Hospital and Sandy. She was too tired to speak, instead, once she felt comfortable she closed her eyes against and sank back into the pillows. Hoping that it wasn’t too late to enter back into the sleep she had just awoken from. 

Looking at the time, Sandy sighed and walked back to her chair. Picking up the book from the seat, she moved it out of the way and placed it on a side cabinet. She then pulled out the chair as quietly as she could, before collecting some blankets and a pillow she stowed away during the day under the chair that stood next to the cabinet. 

Kerry watched as Sandy organized herself, having not been able to fall back to sleep. Her eyes slowly moved around the ward, trying to find something to preoccupy herself with. She found her thoughts clearer now, less fragmented but she didn’t want to be thinking. When she started to think, that was when things started to get confusing. 

But everything was still around her, apart from the odd nurse getting up and checking something and she returned to focus on Sandy. 

“Your blankets…” Kerry scrunched up her forehead, flopping her arm out so it hung off the side of the bed and pointed vaguely in the direction of Sandy’s chair. “I don’t think you’re allowed...to sleep here.” She said through a yawn. 

Sandy looked back at her. “Oh, I have special privileges now.” She joked and for a moment she almost forgot where they were. That Kerry wasn't lightly telling her off, for breaking her hospital rules. But when she looked closer Kerry was less annoyed and more concerned. 

“Do you need anything?” She walked over to Kerry again, moving her arm back onto the mattress. Her brows furrowed as she noticed her cracked and sore lips. “You’re lips are dry. They should have been doing something for that.” She said, turning to pick up a small tub of lip balm. 

She gently applied the cream to her lips, pausing to allow Kerry to rub them together and bringing over a tissue to wipe of any excess. 

“You’re hand?” Kerry said, noticing Sandy’s bandaged up wound as her hand hovered over her face. She became aware of her own hand, constricted in its cast. She remembered her own hand against the concrete; saw flashes of what came next. “Like mine.” Her voice was calm, dreamy almost in her drowsy state, but her face portrayed it. The terror. She was lost between the past and the present. 

“It’s nothing.” Sandy shook her head, already finishing up and placing the tub back. Not seeing the change in Kerry’s demeanor. She was about to return when Kerry spoke. Her words sending chills through her spine. 

“What did he do?”

Sandy’s breath hitched in her throat. “He?”

“Did he hurt you as well?” 

Sandy struggled to speak, a lump forming in her throat. She felt sick. “No, no, Kerry, he didn’t hurt me.” She turned back to her. 

Kerry let out a shaky breath as if she was relieved and Sandy’s heart broke. Kerry’s quick breaths soon turned into strained sobs, rattling through her entire chest, ending in little noise but rather a guttural release of air. 

“I was terrified. He wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.” She closed her eyes, the hot tears escaping below. Sandy cupped her face, holding her tight where she could. Wishing she could take it all away from her. She wanted to stop her, pull her out of wherever she was but she could see she was in too far. That bringing her out of it would be just as distressing. So she listened. The simple action one of the hardest things she had ever done. “He was on me and then...and then I...I thought I’d never see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back! Hope you all are well and enjoyed this chapter (even if it's all a bit :( for Kerry & Sandy currently - sorry about that).
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments :)
> 
> Edit: I just realized I mixed up Kerry's bad hip lmao so if you saw that...no you did not...(I'm sorry!).


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